Perfect World
by IndieWrites
Summary: During 6th year, Harry wishes for a perfect world, and finds reality is a much harsher master. In the aftermath of Draco's injuries, Harry is left broken in mind and spirit. Can those who hate him pull him back together? Or will he be lost to the dark?
1. Silence

**Disclaimer: I neither do now, nor have I ever owned the fabulously renowned forms of Harry and his world. I do however, indulge in messing with them.**

A/N: No, I'm not giving up on anything. I have began, or am editing several chapters to my ficts, which will be posted within the next few weeks. Thank you for your patience. In the mean time, I had this tucked away, and ran across it earlier today. It was a long one shot, but I decided to break it up in to short drabble like chapters. Enjoy, I hope.

Warnings: Some disturbing imagery, mention of neglect/ abuse, possible OOC-ness, although I try to keep it minimum. 6th year AU, Slash.

Pairing: Harry/Draco. Mentorish Snape (one of my favorite kinds!)

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><p><strong>Perfect World<strong>

**1- Silence**

Perfect calm.

It surrounded the castle and all that inhabited it. The night was silent, save for the few calls of the creatures dwelling in the Forbidden Forest. The sky, inky black, lit brilliant with stars and a full blue moon.

Perfect.

Calm.

A scream shattered the perfect silence, dragged out in agony known only to those who have been _there._

Hands clutched at a damp shirt, fingers scrabbling for something tangible. Something perfect. Something calm. Nails, broken and chewed to the quick, bled from small cuts littering the tips. Teeth bit his lip, trying to cut off the whimper that strove to be free. Clawing, scratching, wanting the freedom of crying into that silent, perfect night. Heat ran, liquid fire through his veins, burning his blood to ash, singing a grim saviors' song.

He cried out once more, his knees now bent, buckled beneath him, his too big pajama pants tripping his feet on his way down to the cool stone floor. Fists clenched, he slammed them down, heedless of the pain that rocketed though the abused limbs. He did not flinch as his body folded in on itself, his cheek scuffing along the floor. He laid there, the pale moonlight falling all around him. His breaths, hot and rapid, wheezed out of his overly tired lungs.

Sick, and more than a little tired, he blinked his eyes slowly, their gaze unfocused. He had lost his glasses minutes, hours, days ago. It's okay, though. He couldn't see with them any better than he could without. After all, he had been living in a world of blurred lines and fuzzy expectations for over six years now, hadn't he? Now his physical sight merely matched his reality.

Crickets sang their little tunes, unaware of the broken young man several feet above them. An owl hooted its call, others responding in like form. A howl floated up to him; werewolves were on the prowl. It was a full moon after all. A fool's moon, promising light and dreams to all who could see it. Bathed in its blue light, he gasped, hot tears stinging his eyes, falling silently down his cheeks as he buried his face into his shaking hands, trying to hide his twisted face from the perfect calm around him. It wasn't fair. No, it wasn't right that everything around him, everyone around him could touch this peace. This perfect calm.

He wanted to. Oh how he wanted to. And yet, as he reached out, it seemed as if the moon and all its promises pulled back from him violently, shivering away from the broken, raw boy. He laughed, cackled at the very thought. Of course it wouldn't want a part of him. Destiny had foreseen that, and prophecy demanded it.

Alone. Always alone. Surrounded by people, told he was loved and yet, all he felt was strange. Absurd to think he could break from his gilded golden cage.

Golden Boy… Savior…Killer.

_Killer._

The word was whispered within and without the castle, murmured from ear to ear. Joked about between the Slytherin groups, sneered in his own house. It began the end of his fourth year, and had somehow continued throughout the next two. No matter what came his way, he still heard that word.

Yet, it belonged to him, he knew. Just like _freak_, it identified whom he was to his world. It had become another title. And while he hadn't directly killed anyone, he would soon. Wasn't that what they were training him for, hoping and praying he would do?

Funny that, no? Perfect little Gryffindor. Perfect little Boy Who Lived. Perfect little Murderer. Bred for bloodshed, molded for killing, for revenge, for _justice._ He spat and coughed, bile erupting in the back of his throat at the very thought. What was justice? In this perfect world, he, the strange, was to cast judgment upon those others believed to be unworthy.

Was he not the one most unworthy?

Broken sobs spilled from his lips as he begged the night to answer him.

Only the silence of perfect calm responded.


	2. Musings of a Malfoy

**Disclaimer: Really? All mine! Oh... not all mine, none of it mine... Pity. **

A/N: Forgot to mention that one part will be uploaded per day. Enjoy. Reviews welcome, flames not.**  
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><p><strong>2- Musings of a Malfoy<strong>

Perfect calm.

He was the embodiment of such a sentiment. Or at least he had been. The perfect son, the perfect heir. The perfect Malfoy. From his manners and mannerisms, to his impeccable dress and speech, he had been groomed from infancy to exude perfection and calm. He gave off the air of a perfect world, nothing strange or absurd in his realm. His friends were hand picked, his house known from the moment he had his letter.

To the outside world, he wore his mantle proudly, nothing ruffled his feathers. And he hated it. He was breaking inside, his blood boiling with such intense hatred and confusion. It roared in his ears as he walked swiftly down the empty, quiet corridors. He should be abed, like the rest of the perfect, calm people. And yet, his thoughts were anything but, and had driven him from the warmth and comfort of his silken sheets.

Tasked with a quest that bode nothing but failure, even if he managed to accomplish it, his mask of contrite control was beginning to crack. Twice he had tried, and twice now he had weakly failed. Time was short, and his patience and sanity along with it. Having recovered somewhat from his near deadly encounter with Potter only two weeks before, he was beginning to see things in a different light. A fearful and dark light. He had never thought of death until the moment that terrifying curse hit him, ripping his torso in to shreds. Laying in a pool of his own blood, he had seen the look of utter anguish that passed over those green eyes, and found as much as he wanted to hate the shattered boy, he could not.

It still puzzled him to no end. He had almost died. He had no doubt that if Moaning Myrtle hadn't alerted Snape, he would have. He should be furious, plotting revenge on Potter for daring to even look at him wrong. And yet…

And yet…

He found himself incapable of feeling so. Hence his driven strides during the perfect calm night. His fist wound up the fabric of his cloak over the tender scars, pain still lacing the knitted skin. They would remain forever, a reminder of this hellish year and his daunting task. His other hand ran through his unusually mussed white gold locks, fingering the silken strands. His eyes, wide and red rimmed, flashed back and forth as he moved almost silently along the stones.

He heard the howls of the creatures of the night and flinched, a cold shiver running up his spine. The sound reminded him too much of Greyback and his garish countenance. His nose wrinkled in disdain just thinking of the brute. How his family could associate with such a … thing… was well beyond him.

More and more he was beginning to wonder if this really was the right path. If it wasn't for the threat hanging like a guillotine over his mother and his own heads, he might have just walked away. His perfect image and reputation be damned; he thought it might be overrated anyway.

His feet directed him in the opposite direction he should be going, past the 7th floor and up to the Astronomy Tower. Climbing the steps, he glanced around him, eyes drawn to the huge blue moon hanging overhead. The exact representation of perfect calm. He snarled, his lips turning into a scowl.

Mockery. That's all it was. There is no such thing as perfection. No such thing as calm. Illusions placed before those foolish enough to try, those insipid dreamers.

How he envied them.


	3. Lumos

**Disclaimer:** **Still not mine****. Bet they wish they were... or not...**

A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to those who have added this to their faves/alerts. Glad you have enjoyed so far, and hope you will continue to do so. Reviews still welcome. Flames not.

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><p><strong>3- <em>Lumos<em>**

Creaking open the door, Draco slipped into the room, shutting the door with a soft click. He shivered slightly as a cool breeze moved throughout the Tower. Focused on the open balcony, he moved towards it. His booted foot bumped into something, sending him tumbling down. He managed to put his hands in front of him, bracing himself for a hard fall. Instead, his palms met with cloth and cold flesh.

Terrified, he threw his body back, landing on his bum. Casting a quick _Lumos_, his eyes widened at the sight before him. A crumpled form lay twisted into a ball, grey and dirty clothes wrapped in a hideous blanket around the body. Matted black curls clutched tightly in pale hands gave a singular clue as to their identity. He gulped, his breath suddenly short.

"Potter?" he whispered. A small hiss was returned. He moved ahead slowly, crawling towards his fellow year mate. Gingerly, with shaking fingers, he reached out and pushed back the unruly hair. There, burned bright into an otherwise flawless forehead, was that cursed scar. Snatching back his hand as if burned, he jolted backwards quickly, his lips twisted into his trademark sneer.

"What are you doing up here, Potter? Your tower not good enough for you now?" he jeered. Nothing was said by his nemesis. Annoyed, and slightly concerned, he frowned. "Potter?" he called again.

Potter shook his head briefly, making Draco wonder if he was really conscious. Slowly, the green eyes opened and the head moved around to look at him. He bit back a gasp. The boy looked dead. His skin was wet and paler than Draco's own. His eyes shone feverishly, blood trailing from his scar in a gruesome trail, mixing with tear tracks. His lips, unnaturally red, were open, and Draco could hear the wheezing each breath made. His hands unwound from his limp locks, their tips cracked and bleeding. He coughed wetly and tried to move his body to a sitting position.

Harry winced as each tiny movement screamed agony throughout his body. How long had he been laying there? He couldn't even begin to tell. He hadn't heard Draco come in, nor had he heard him speak at first. Then his voice, strangely concerned, broke through the haze and Harry, so lost, struggled to swim his way out of the black and back into the light. His eyes, still unfocused, squinted as he was blinded by the halo of light Draco's hair made in the pale moonlight.

His lungs fought for breath, feeling as if he was swallowing fire with each gasp. He coughed again, his hand shakily covering his mouth.

"Wha…?" he finally managed to whisper out.

"Merlin Potter, who worked you over?" Draco asked quietly, watching as Harry pulled his form around into a half reclining position. He could tell that the Gryffindor was in an untold amount of pain, and yet could not see how he came to be so. He heard his half attempt at a question, and wondered if Harry was even aware of who he was, or where they were.

"I…uh…" Harry looked around him in confusion. As everything was hazy, he wasn't sure just where he was anymore. His gaze flipped back over to the angel sitting a few feet away and he reached out his hand, longing to touch the perfect being before him. The voice rattled in his brain, telling him he was not exactly safe here. But his heart traitorously wanted to feel even a mediocre wisp of that perfect calm he longed to have.


	4. Snape

**Disclaimer: Do I have to put this up each time? Everyone knows it's not mine... *sighs***

A/N: I got a review! Thank you so very much. And thanks for the favs/ alerts. It does this little writer's heart good.

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><p><strong>4- Snape<strong>

Draco sat, confounded as the younger man reached out to him, his fingers grasping at air. He knew for a certainty that Harry was lost to the world presently. Otherwise, the boy would never act as he was. In reality, he was confused, and yet pleased that Harry wanted comfort from him. Still, this was a situation that he had never thought to be in, and so was unsure how to react. Seeing the glazed look in those emerald eyes, he made a quick decision, one that would affect them both for the rest of their lives.

Standing on not so steady legs, he grabbed a hold of Harry's searching hand and pulled the chilled boy to his feet. Harry stumbled, his legs unable to bear his weight, and swayed. Wrapping his arm around Harry's waist, Draco tucked him into his side, taking the brunt of the weight. He paused to cast a _Tempus_ charm and noted that it was only five minutes until Professor Snape's usual round. He had been avoiding the Potions Master as much as possible since the Slug Party fiasco over Christmas. Now, he was hoping to all Magic that the man would be willing to lend aid.

"Hold on, Harry," he whispered to the trembling Gryffindor, tightening his arms. Harry shook violently as another spasm of coughing wrecked his body. His eyes blinked slowly and Draco knew he was fighting a loss in consciousness. "Damn it. Where is he?" he grumbled.

"Looking for someone, Mr. Malfoy? And look, here's Mr. Potter as well. What an auspicious occasion this must be. Pray tell, Draco. Why are the both of you out of bed?" Snape's velvety voice echoed beyond the shadows. For once, Draco was glad to hear it, although his Professor's words did not bode well.

"I was out walking, sir. Couldn't sleep." Draco replied simply.

"And what drove you from your bed at such an hour? I've told you I would help, Draco, if only you would let me," Severus admonished, ignoring Harry completely. Obviously the Gryffindor Golden Boy had managed to land himself in trouble again, and appeared to be drunk off his arse from the way he was swaying.

Draco frown at the obvious overlooking of his companion by his Head of House. "What brings me here is of no matter right now."

"And what is?" Snape snarled, finally casting a contemptuous eye over to Harry. "I see you have apprehended Mr. Potter. Twenty- five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for roaming the halls, and another thirty for drinking on school grounds. Now, off to bed with you, and hurry it up before I am forced to take more." He leaned forward, reaching out a hand to take Harry away from Draco, only to find his prize student move away. Raising a brow, he sneered down his large nose at the pair.

"Harry isn't drunk," Draco defended, surprising them both. Harry's legs chose this time to completely buckle, sending him crashing to the floor. He cried out in pain, then curled up, whimpering. Draco hastily knelt beside him, placing a calming hand on his back. "There's something wrong with him," he said, looking up. "He's near frozen and complete out of it. I found him like this up here when I arrived." His silver eyes spoke of concern, such a rarity for him. It was enough for Severus to truly be worried. And irritated.

"He was already up here? How long do you think he had been here before you came?" Severus asked, kneeling on the other side of the unconscious boy, his tone suddenly business-like, without the hate. He reached out his hand, placing on the sweaty forehead, only to snatch it back quickly. "He's feverish."

"I know," Draco sneered slightly. Severus gave him a confused look. Draco sighed. "I don't know how long. Long enough for him to end up like this. I thought maybe someone took a shot at him," he paused, indicating that he really wasn't sure if that was the case. Even lost in his own problems lately, he had seen the way Harry's appearance had turned gaunt and haunted. In fact Harry hadn't look well in weeks now.

Severus ran his wand over Harry's prone form, casting several diagnostic charms and stabilizing spells. He too had seen the difference in the usually foolhardy Gryffindor recently, but simply brushed such concerns aside. There were far more important things to worry about than Dumbledore's Golden Boy and his latest drama. Now, however, as he shook his head with pinched lips, he wondered if he shouldn't have done something sooner. The boy was thin, and had obviously succumbed to exhaustion. He looked to have lost weight, probably from a lack of sleeping and eating. And having spent an untold amount of time out in the cold had brought on a rather violent cold virus. Carefully, he pulled the younger man into his arms and stood. Draco hastily climbed to his feet as well, his face a naked show of concern.

Curious, that.


	5. Realizations

**Disclaimer: Not Mine, Still...**

A/N: Oh such lovely lovely reviews! I'm so tickled! Hope this one meets with approval.

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><p><strong>5- Realizations<strong>

"Well?" Draco demanded quietly. "What's wrong with him?"

Severus cast a searching look at his favorite student and saw the flash of emotions playing through those silver eyes. He paused a moment to reflect, coming to the bittersweet conclusion that Draco would not be completing his task. Something tonight had changed him, and perhaps had changed the tide of the looming war even before it really began. No, Draco's choice was made, whether or not he knew it just yet. Therefore, Severus path was firmly placed as well. He shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the present.

"He's ill, and suffering from exhaustion in an acute form. I have no doubt that if you hadn't found him tonight, we would be without a Savior," he replied honestly, his usual sneer only dimly present in his tone.

Draco's eyes widened. "Will he be alright?" he asked, wincing inwardly at the almost pleading note in his voice. He knew Severus heard it and stubbornly stood, eyes locked on those black orbs.

Severus nodded. "I'll take him up to Poppy. A few days in bed and a few healing potions and he will be back, causing everyone trouble at break neck speed."

"I'm going with you," the blond proclaimed, his jaw set firmly and hands clenched tightly. Severus merely tossed his head, letting his student open the door and lead the way. Their journey was silent and tense with worry. Draco continuously stole glances at the prone body of his year mate, while Severus sighed at the obvious and un-Malfoyish actions. Whatever had gone on before his arrival had shaken the very foundations of Draco's being. It was wondrous and yet disconcerting to see. The Potions Master had to wonder what the ultimate results would be for Draco.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the burden that lay within his arms. Harry's destiny was set and nothing could change it, barring untimely death. Again, Severus' thoughts took on a reflective tone. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt much trepidation for the small Savior and the weight he bore at such a young age. Something akin to pride flared in his heart, allowing himself to understand what all Harry must face on a day to day basis. He had seen far too much and experienced things no child should ever have to, all because of fluke scar and a mumble prophecy spoken by a half-wit seer. Seeing the pallor and deep black circles under the brunet's eyes, he knew that his thoughts were probably echoed by Harry himself.

The question remained: What had happened tonight to put him in such a state? Unfortunately, Severus didn't think they would ever really know. And that very idea worried him to no end.

Bloody stupid Gryffindor. He shook his head. Of course, fault laid not solely at Harry's feet. The majority of accountability must be attributed to the adults in his life. So caught up in their own struggles for survival, they, himself included, had allowed Harry, and others, to bear things and handle situations that most full grown wizards should never encounter. The support Harry and one's like Draco should be getting fell by the wayside in favor pushing them to fulfill their duties. When was the last time most in his generation had been able to act as teenagers should?

Not that Harry wasn't a handful, reckless and irresponsible most times. But instead of him finding himself through his mistakes, he had to worry who would die if he didn't do anything and everything possible to gain victory in a war he had fought from the moment he entered Hogwarts.

Severus groaned inwardly, knowing his feelings of disdain and clouded vision had only added to the younger man's wayward path. At the same time, he had to wonder how the boy's father and godfather would have handled the circumstances Harry was routinely thrown headlong into. Those darkened glasses he had been using to look at the Potter boy for the past six or so years were becoming clearer the closer they got to Poppy's domain.


	6. Poppy's Mistake

**Disclaimer: Same as yesterday... will same as tomorrow too...**

A/N Thank you very much for your continued support, and the questions asked. I hope you will all continue to enjoy our little journey here. Much more to come! I have a bone to pick with Poppy... and it might show here.

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><p><strong>6- Poppy's Mistake<strong>

Casting a glance over to his companion, he saw the pensive look on Draco's face, one he had seen too often as of late. Unaware, the younger Malfoy's mask had fallen completely. His silver eyes flashed back and forth between his feet and the burden in Severus' arms.

Despite the turmoil they felt, their footsteps echoing along the stone floors was the only noise to break the still, perfect calm that had descended once again around the castle. Swiftly, they moved, both lost in their own thoughts, but similarly irritated by the quiet. Together, they entered the Hospital Wing, Severus pausing to look around for the matronly nurse.

"Poppy," he called out, taking note of the two occupied beds. A Hufflepuff and one of his own first year Slytherins lay sleeping on pristine white sheets. He raised a brow in question at Draco, who returned his answer with a shrug. He knew little to nothing of his fellow Housemates this year, so preoccupied by his own foolish undertakings. That, he decided, was going to change. If there was a chance for him to get out, maybe there was the same for others he knew were heading down a similar dark path. His eyes followed Harry as Severus placed him on a bed.

"Watch him," his Professor commanded. He nodded his head, standing mere inches away from the head of the bed. On its own volition, his pale hand reached out and smoothed back the matted hair on Harry's hot brow. He looked at the scar, still burning angrily on his forehead and felt his shoulders droop. So much pain, such agony. He heard whispering off to the side, but did not remove him hand until Poppy stepped up beside him.

"And Mr. Malfoy found him like this, then?" she questioned.

He nodded his head. "He was conscious at the time, but incoherent. I don't think he knew who I was, or where we were," he replied, glancing at his Head of House. The man stood tall and stiffly, watching the woman work over Harry.

She made a tutting noise and shook her head. "He's frightfully underweight, nearly where he was when he began the school year. And his lungs have filled with fluid. His temperature is elevated and there are several gashes and cuts that will need tending too. Looks like two cracked ribs as well." She gave both Slytherins a stern look. "Either of you have any idea how he came to be in such a state?" she asked, her tone harsh.

Severus and Draco locked eyes, not missing the mention of Harry's obvious problem at the beginning of the year. They were missing something, and apparently had been for a while. Severus felt a slight pain of guilt, but pushed it aside. What was done, was done. He could not change anything up to this point.

"I know he had been laying there for a while before I found him. His skin was like ice." Draco answered, reaching out his hand again. He wrapped it around Harry's, feeling the rapid pulse beneath the skin.

"Has he been in to see you?" Severus asked, trying to determine what had brought the young man to this point.

"Last I saw of him was three nights before Mr. Malfoy was released from here," Poppy said.

Two eyebrows, one dark, one light, shot up. "And his reason for the visit?"

"To see about Draco's condition of course. I'm afraid I reamed him out for his part in the situation. He wished to express his deepest regrets, saying he had no idea what would happen. He begged me to let him know when I would know the lasting effects on Draco," the older woman heaved a great sigh. "I told him it was none of his concern."


	7. The Truth of the Matter

**Disclaimer: blah... not mine, as usual...**

A/N**: **My apologies for not having this up earlier. I got involved in a project that distracted me. Thank you once again to all who have reviewed, faved or added this to their alerts. You guys keep me going.

Also wanted to note that while Severus has calmed in his harsh behavior towards Harry, do not expect him to be all hug and puppies. He is who he is, and he will still be demanding. You will see some softening towards Harry in coming chapters, just to forewarm, but hopefully not enough to scream OCC.** Enjoy!  
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><p><strong>7- The Truth of the Matter<strong>

The quiet that followed was deafening. Too much was said in those few words. The emotions that fell upon the three were heavy and harsh. Guilt, remorse, understanding.

"It wasn't his fault," Draco finally said. Neither boy had divulged the specific details of their fight, Severus and Minerva both drawing their own conclusions based on prejudice and malice. While Severus knew where and how Harry had gotten the deadly spell, he had assumed the boy knew exactly what he was doing when he cast it. Minerva on the other hand, asserted that Harry must have been provoked and so retaliated without thinking.

Now, Severus had to reconsider that perhaps the old cat was closer to the truth. He gave Draco a look that spoke volumes. Draco hung his head, his thumb moving in restless circles across the back of Harry's hand.

"He caught me in the bathroom. I was a complete wreck and afraid to let go of my damned pride, I lashed out even before he had a chance to say anything. For all I know, he could have been worried about me. I cast the first curse," he confessed, "And tried to use a _Cruciatus_ on him. He responded, and… well you know the result." He shook his head. "I know he hadn't the slightest idea what it was. I could see the look of confusion and agony in his eyes." He turned to his Professor. "He was shattered, Professor."

"I would imagine so, seeing his year mate bleeding out on the floor and knowing he had caused it," Severus replied, understanding alighting his black eyes. Both boys had been foolish and committed dangerous acts in the heat of confrontation. Draco had paid for it immediately, and Harry was paying for it now. The guilt must have driven him to the brink, the realization of his actions and the parallels he must have drawn in comparison to the Dark Lord had completely destroyed whatever calm Harry had clutched at. Coupled with the constant tasks Dumbledore placed upon him and the sorrow he still fought as a result of the death of his godfather…

Severus shook his head, running a hand tiredly over his face. And then to have his concerns pushed aside, to be treated as Poppy had, had broken their Savior. "It appears we have much to atone for, Poppy," he told the witch, raising his gaze to the woman. She nodded, grabbing a few potions and pouring them down Harry's throat. He swallowed reflexively, but did not wake.

Draco turned to Severus, narrowing his eyes. "There is more to this than just our fight, isn't there?"

The older man nodded. "There is, but it is not my place to say. Harry's situation is complicated at best. The stress he endures, I believe you have only had a small taste of it this year. I also think you have a decision to make now. I said I would help you however I could." He looked back to the sleeping boy, waiting until Poppy had left to gather more potions. "I am not completely aware of your tasks. However, I do know you have a choice. You and Potter here are not so different after all. He is going to need support beyond what he has now. This year will end with a great amount of strain place on him, strain you can help him with. Or you can continue down the path you are on now. The choice, Draco, is and always has been up to you." His eyes met Draco's.

"But…he…I…" Draco began, then looked away. "You aren't what you seem, are you?" he asked.

Severus shrugged, knowing all too well what he was gambling with. "Are we ever what we put forth? Can you say the prideful, nasty prat you show everyone is truly how you feel? If Harry had been able to see you and apologize before this, would you have truly turned him away?"

Smoothing a hand through the messy dark locks, Draco was relieved to find his fingers had ceased their trembling. He thought over Severus' questions for a moment. He knew an offered escape when he saw one. "It's what I have wanted from the first moment I met him," he said quietly. "Just something that said that he didn't see me as the horrible git I can be. Something that said maybe we could have been friends." Harry twitched and sighed under his strokes, his haggard face turning into the touch. A small smile bent Draco's lips. "I used to think it was his extreme Gryffindor tendencies that made him act as he does. Now, I wonder if it isn't just Harry. He really is an oddity in our world, isn't he? He doesn't fit the picture we all have of him. Constantly in the spotlight, constantly asked to change into what we think he should be…"

"Again, are you really that different?" Severus questioned.

Draco shook his head. "I guess not." He paused, turning pleading eyes to his mentor. "You really think I have a chance to get out?"

Severus nodded. "I know you do." He pressed his hand onto the younger man's shoulder, then turned his back. Poppy was headed back towards them. "Think about it, and ask him when he wakes up. I'll excuse you from classes tomorrow. Regardless of what you decide, come and find me tomorrow night."

"I will," Draco replied, with a half nod of his head. It felt heavy and light at the same time, his thoughts whirling furiously though his mind. A kinship of souls began within him, as comprehension of both his professor and rival dawned. With a calculated look, he focused on Severus' stoic face, and for once, saw the man beneath. Again, his eyes flicked to Harry, seeing the same. He guessed that maybe, just maybe, he looked quite like them as well. It was a curious thought. One that merited some investigation.


	8. In the Dark of Night

**Disclaimer: See yesterday's chapter... and the one before that... and the one before that...**

**A/N: **I discovered that I lacked mentioning that like**_ "Forever Strange,"_** Perfect World was inspired by the song** "Strange"** by Tokio Hotel. Awesome song that has, and will continue to inspire several of my ficts. I know this one is short, but the next one has to be on it own, so there was nothing to do but split them like it is. Either way, I hope you enjoy. and thanks for the support you have given me. It means a lot to know that people enjoy my little cobwebs.**  
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><p><strong>8- In the Dark Of Night<strong>

Poppy's hand appeared beside his own feeling Harry's slowly stabilizing pulse. She gave a small sigh of relief, before pouring another potion down the sleeping boy's throat. He groaned and shifted to his side, then rolled back over to his back. His face scrunched up with dissatisfaction, apparently unable to find a comfortable position.

"For heavens' sake," Poppy said in exasperation. With a flick of her wand, he was on his uninjured side and tucked in tightly. "That should hold him for now." The two observing Slytherins simply gave her an amused look. She snorted. "No need to look like that. I know I have used that same charm on the both of you more than once," she chastised.

Draco blushed lightly, while Severus scowled and turned away. "I need to report to the Headmaster. Keep me informed as to his condition," he said with a whip of his robes. Understanding that he meant Draco as well, the blond dipped his head in acknowledgment and watched as the older man swept from the room. Summoning a chair, he settled down at Harry's bedside, looking for all intents and purposed to be ready for a night full of watching. Poppy, with a small smirk, summoned a blanket and handed it to the young man.

"You can make use of the bed there, if you so desire," she told him, motioning to the cot next to Harry's. He gave her a searching look, wary of the strange twinkle in her eyes. It would be in his best interest to make a none committal reply, and so he simply nodded and said

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"I've always believed things happen for a reason, Mr. Malfoy. We might not know what that reason is, at first, but given time, I think many things will come to light," she spoke quietly, her tone saying more than her words. With another look at her patient, she slipped away, drawing the curtains around Harry's area to afford them both a little privacy. Draco found himself grateful for the small gesture.

As silence descended upon the two boys, he allowed an expression of concern to remain on his face. Chaotic, his thoughts again moved throughout his brain, the events and conversations of the evening casting light upon his position and those of others around him. Amidst the would-be confusing patterns, one thing shone clearly before him. He knew exactly what path he wanted to take, and what he would say to Severus the next night. And while the decision did not obliterate his stress, he felt as if it had at least lightened. Leaning forward, he grasped Harry's hand in his two and bowed his head over them, a silent plea that he possessed the courage to follow through, and the strength to help Harry in whatever way he could.

Exhausted from the emotional weight of his night, Draco's eyes fluttered closed, and in the perfect calm of early morning, both boys slept.


	9. True Colours

**Disclaimer: You have got to be kidding me! I won the lotto and now have Harry? Oh... I didn't... and so don't? *pouts*  
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A/N: I have to say, the review I get just make my day so much better! You are all so kind and insightful. I'm glad to see you enjoy this.

I wanted to make a note of something about this chapter. Albus is not evil in my story. However, he is manipulative, hardened and rather blind to how his actions are affecting others, in particular. This is the first 'confrontation' Severus will have with him, there is a second in a few chapters. My view on this is that if you read or watch the films, from the 4th year one, Dumbledore's attitude and actions that involve Harry are not kind. He is harsh with him in GoF, then sets him up as bait, and trauma. I can't believe that after everything, he didn't at least have an idea that Moody wasn't Moody. 5th year he completely ignores Harry... and then passes him off to Snape who detested Harry at the time. In 6th, he wants Harry to do whatever he asks without any by your leave. He shows very little care about his obvious fate, chastising Severus for possibly caring about Harry. He then sets him off on a quest with hardly any information with the hopes that he won't get himself killed. Hence, my Dumbledore is not a nice grandfathery sort, but a war harden individual too concerned with placing everything on Harry and not enough concern for the boy's well being. In light of this, I don't want any flames about him being OOC. However, I would love to hear what you think on the matter. As always, enjoy.

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><p><strong>9- True Colours<strong>

Severus left the two boys in the quiet safety of the infirmary, and made his way towards the Headmaster's office. With the new realizations that had come to light about Harry and Draco, Severus wanted nothing more than to rail at the old man for putting them all in this position. Not that he could fault Albus completely, but without his manipulations and inference, or lack there of, Severus was sure that this situation would not have gotten as bad as it had. He clinched his fist in irritation and said the latest sugary password with a snarl.

The gargoyle sprung aside quickly; it knew better than to keep the surly Potion Master waiting. His footsteps ate up the stairs as he swiftly ascended.

"Severus, my boy, what a pleasant surprise. A bit late perhaps, but not unwelcome," Albus Dumbledore said with his usual jovial air.

The Professor sneered and stood stiffly before the older man's massive desk. "I am hardly here for a social call, Headmaster," he spoke with quiet anger colouring his tone. Albus' eyes lost their twinkle and he frowned.

"Is something the matter, Severus? Is it Voldemort?"

Flinching minutely, Severus shook his inky head. "No, I simply found it prudent to inform you that your Golden Boy was found out of bed tonight, atop the Astronomy Tower and is currently in residence at the Infirmary. Poppy is overseeing his care and he will be excused from classes until she deems him fit to continue." He took immense pleasure in seeing the carefully caring mask fall from the Headmaster's face.

"Harry? Whatever happened?" he asked with doctored concern.

Severus felt his anger grow and turned his head away from those searching blue eyes. "It appears he has succumbed to exhaustion among other things. Poppy is unsure where his injures came from, but his lungs have filled with fluid and he has lost a significant amount of weight." Severus paused and narrowed his eyes. "Even with potions and Poppy's rather expert care, he will not be up to any of his usual adventures for a while."

Albus sighed and sat back in his high-backed chair. "Then we have a problem. He still has several tasks that must be accomplished before the end of the year. Time is running out, Severus. We cannot afford for him to have a lie in."

Dumbledore's insensitive words raised Severus' ire. He was hardly surprised, however, given the information Albus had enlightened him with at the beginning of the school year. His black eyes flashed. "Had you not placed such a heavy load upon the boy, he would not be in the state he is. For now, Harry is out of commission. Deal with it, Albus," he bit out and spun on his heel. He knew he needed to leave the room before he did something stupid. He ignored the Headmaster's call and left the office as promptly as he had arrived.

With heavy strides, he made his way back to his sanctuary, intent on examining the nights revelations, and his next moves. Whispering his password, he entered his quarters and slowly went to his cabinet. Pouring himself a tumbler of brandy, he sank into his chair and gazed into the fire burning brightly before him. With a deep sigh, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

It had become increasingly clear over the last four years at least, that the relationship between Harry and the Headmaster had changed. It was rocky at best, strained and erratic. That fact became strikingly apparent when Harry had returned to school this year. Something dark surrounded the younger man, something that spoke of betrayal, disillusionment and pain. Even before tonight, they were losing the boy.

No... not boy, after seeing him as he was on that cold hard floor. Broken young man. Had he ever been a boy? With everything put upon him from the moment he entered their world, Severus could not say that Potter had been a child, at least not for long. That innocence had died the same night Quirrel had. And each new year, with its trials and horrors only served to hasten the maturity of the Savior.

Albus had not seen fit to confide in Severus what the exact nature of Harry's tasks had been, although, he knew the Headmaster had been keen on guiding the green eyed man with dubious hints and teases of praise. However, as his previous conversation had shown, whatever Harry was involved in Albus was more concerned with its completion that the health of his pawn.

Severus snorted indelicately. As if the old fool had ever really held any of his pawns well-being in any sort of interest. The hypocrisy of his words and actions were brought to light when they had formerly discussed Draco's task. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus groaned. And now he had a shattered and ill Boy-Who-Lived to handle. As much as he would like to put back up his walls and ignore what had happened tonight, there was no way Severus could forget. Harry Potter was nothing but a shadow of his father's looks. Nothing of the arrogant and ill manner prankster remained in his son's soul. Gritting his teeth, he stood with a tired shrug. Yes, Harry wasn't what he thought before. He was much much more, and so much less.

Somewhere in all this, his protective nature he usual reserved only for those of his house had awakened. Whether Harry wanted it or not, he was about to fall under Severus' wings. Come hell, which was most likely, or high water, which still might happen, Severus would put that trice damned boy back together. Without him, they were all doomed.

Merlin, what a mess.


	10. The Morning After

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

A/N: I am so so sorry. I became ill this weekend, and as such laid about on the couch. I was too tired to even think about doing anything other than sleeping and looking after my little ones. As such, I have left you all hanging. But I am feeling better now, and will resume our regularly scheduled program. I might even upload another part today. I'm so delighted with the feedback I have gotten, and hope you will all continue to enjoy this.

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><p><strong>10- The Morning After<strong>

Dawn broke much too soon, the sunlight filtering into the room, casting strange and wild shadows along the curtains. Harry stirred, his hip warm and a weight across his waist. Confused and sore, he shifted to his back, his arm moving to lay on top of the one around his middle. A groan came from his cracked lips and he tossed his head around, lost in between dreams and reality. His thrashing alerted both Draco and Poppy, awakening the one and bringing the other to their sides.

Sitting up abruptly, Draco ran a hand through his mussed golden strands and gave Poppy a questioning look. She moved her wand over Harry, reading the results as they appeared.

"Still far too exhausted for him to be up and about," she concluded. She snagged a bottle off the bedside table and tipped it to the uncomfortable boy's lips. He drank it and opened his green eyes. Squinting at the sudden flood of light, his arm snapped across his eyes and he made a noise of pain. Draco clutched his hand out of reflex and Harry settled. Soon his breathing evened out and he drifted into unconsciousness.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily as they narrowed in on the medi-nurse now engaged in jotting down notes on a piece of parchment. She glanced up once. "He needs his rest. I simply gave him some Dreamless Sleep mixed with a light Calming Draught. He'll be fine, Draco," she assured the now blushing young man. She glanced at their intertwined hands and shook her head with a smile. "Why don't you get ready for your classes? You have plenty of time to make it for breakfast. If anything changes, you and Professor Snape will be the first to know."

Although he knew Snape had excused him from classes, he would be too restless to sit vigil at Harry's bedside. Putting his mind to work would be more advantageous in the long run. Reluctantly, Draco squeezed Harry's hand once and stood. "I…" he faltered. "Thank you," he finally whispered, heading out of the enclosure.

"Draco," Poppy called, waiting until he had turned back around. "I know I needn't warn you that silence would be the wisest course for now. Harry is vulnerable right now. Even those well meaning could hamper his progress," she warned.

Resisting the urge to look surprised as the meaning in her words sunk in, he frowned. "Am I to assume you mean no one should know, even his friends?"

She nodded. "They mean well. But I'm sure you know they have a tendency to over react when it comes to our Harry. I think right now some peace and quiet would be the best medicine."

Cautiously, Draco glanced back to Harry's sleeping form, then met the calm expression in Poppy's eyes with a curious look of his own. "Why are you trusting me with this?" he asked. "After everything..." he waved his hand in a vague motion. "If anyone, shouldn't I be the one to not know?"

Poppy smiled kindly. "I have a strong belief in second chances. Harry does as well. I think, once he is alert, you will find a boy not many are able to know. Not even those closest to him," she replied cryptically.

Something warm flooded through Draco and he smirked. Finally, after all these years, he had Harry to himself. There was something most gratifying about that. Not completely understanding everything she was, or wasn't saying, he still knew the opportunity afforded him. Grasping it with both hands he dipped his head. "Of course, Madame Pompfrey. Might I return during lunch?"

With a small conspiratorial smile, Poppy bobbed her head. The smile grew as she watched the tall younger man leave the room. Things were changing around her. She could feel it. And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope just a little.


	11. Lack of Information

**Disclaimer: lalalala Because I agree with "How Harry Potter Should Have Ended" (on youtube btw! Watch it if you haven't already. It's a scream.) I therefore have no real claim Harry and Co. **

**A/N: May I just say that the reviews I received yesterday brought such immense light into my day. To know I am making others' days better... there is no greater compliment. And I love Snape and Draco in this chapter. Their interactions... well you'll see.  
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><p><strong>11- Lack of Information<strong>

Defense was a weird affair, for lack of the better words. The Gryffindor side was more subdued than usual, while the Golden…Duo looked worriedly confused. Whispers shot from mouth to mouth as speculation rose on the whereabouts of the Boy Who Lived. Apparently, Ron and Hermione had not seen Harry since before dinner the night before. Concerned, they searched for him, and came up empty. Draco frowned slightly at this, wondering if Snape had went back to the Astronomy Tower and cleaned up the evidence of Harry's tortured break down. He knew there had been traces of blood on the floor from Harry's hands.

He glanced at his Head of House as the man stalked into the room, looking for all intents and purposes to be a deadly tornado of doom. His face was paler than normal and his eyes bore the signs of a sleepless night. Draco felt a slight pang of worry for the older man. As much as Harry's ordeal had changed him, he now had to wonder if it hadn't done the same for the surly Potions Master. Their eyes locked, silver speaking to black. Severus dipped his head, then turned back to the black board, bringing the instructions for their research assignment into sight.

Working quickly and efficiently, Draco waited until Severus was right beside his table to mummer lowly "The lion meowed briefly, but was made to catnap again."

Ron, overhearing his statement, snorted. "What kinda stupid riddle is that, Malfoy? Your father teach you that one?"

Hermione, still the smarter of the two, elbowed him sharply as Severus turned around, his black eyes glittering with disgust. "Ron, hush. You've knocked over your ink," she squawked. He blanched and redirected his attention to his now ruined parchment.

Draco sneered as Hermione gave him a confused look. Blushing lightly, she ducked her head and focused on her own essay. Severus watched it all with an amused expression in his eyes. He caught Draco's gaze and nodded. Without another word, he resumed his perusal of the dismal attempts at writing out the known sighting of Threstals and the reasons why. The rest of the class went by in an odd sort of apprehensive silence.

When the bell rang, Draco slowly gathered up his book and packed away his quill and ink. He could feel Hermione's stare burning a hole into his head but paid her no attention. With an indignant huff, she vacated the room, leaving him alone with Severus. He made his way up to the front of the room, calmly pausing in front of the Professor's impressive desk. He waited until the man raised his head and gave him his full attention.

"So he woke up?"

The blond nodded. "Yes, but only for a few seconds. He was thrashing around. I think he was in pain as well. Pomfrey gave him a Dreamless Sleep combined with a Calming Draught that knocked him back out. She said he needs a lot more sleep."

Severus hmm-ed, his gaze searching. "What else did she say?" he asked knowingly.

Draco glanced at the door, making sure there were no signs of nosy little mice peeking about. "She requested that his condition not be spoken about to anyone who wasn't there last night. She made a point of including his friends in that." He shook his head. "Why do I get the feeling there is so much more going on here that anyone has thought of before?"

Severus seemed to ponder the question for a few moments then gave a half shrug. "I informed you last night that his situation is complex," he simply answered. Draco knew any other answer would have to come from the Gryffindor himself. "It's best for now that we do as requested. I'll check in on him during my free class."

"Fine. I have Potions next, bloody idiotic Slughorn. Why'd you let him take over your post?" Draco grumbled.

"That, I'm afraid, really isn't something I can disclose," Severus replied with a warning look.

Draco lifted his lip in a sneer, then sighed heavily. "After dinner then?" he asked, striding slowly towards the door.

"Of course."

With one last look, Draco was out the door. It struck him that they had fallen into a strange sort of camaraderie since the previous evening. It was almost as if Severus already knew what Draco had decided, and as such, was more kindly in his mannerisms towards the stressed Slytherin. He didn't think it would be so if he had went the other way. However, that was not something he really wanted to discover in the near future.

Then he snorted with self derision. Seriously, what had happened to the Prince of Slytherin in all his sly cunning? Some snake he was being. Although, perhaps keeping the truth from Harry's friends was remarkably clever. After all, who would ever think of him as protector of the Golden Boy? He grinned grimly. It would have to do, for now. Somehow, he had the inkling that his Slytherin traits would come in handy sooner than they thought.


	12. Conversations of Hope

**Disclaimer: If I had a million dollars, could I have them? Please?**

A/N: Blah... got sick yet again. Migraines are not fun at all. You know, I as a rule, usually dislike Poppy terribly. She was a school nurse and yet, we have no record of her acknowledging the neglect that happened to Harry in canon. She should have noticed things, and she didn't. So generally, I have nothing nice to write about her, and yet... she's kinda wormed her way into my good graces here. I guess as this is a tale of redemption, she deserves some as well? Love Draco in this chapter. I hope he doesn't seem too chapter is actually a rather important one, for all its lack of action. There is a lot of foreshadowing in here... *grins*

Thank you again from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with me and the support you have all shown.**  
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><p><strong>12- Conversations of Hope<strong>

Harry was still asleep when Draco crept into the enclosure at lunch. His brow was drawn into a deep frown and his teeth bit into his lower lip, his fist clutching the sheets covering his body. The blond was reminded of his position the night before. Shouldn't the pain potions have alleviated his discomfort?

"It's mostly mental, and probably emotional," Poppy stated, startling Draco. She placed a hand on Harry's forehead, smoothing back his sweaty hair. "His fever comes and goes, but the ribs are mending nicely. Everything else is up to him, now."

His attention fully on the grimacing boy before him, Draco again took his hand, prying his fingers from their death grip on the cloth beneath him. "Anything I can do?" he asked.

"You could try talking to him. It might calm him," she suggested.

Draco wrinkled his nose. "As if hearing his rival's voice would be soothing to him. I think I'm one of the last people he would want to know he's been like this," he confessed.

Poppy shook her head. "Look," she pointed to their hands and then back to the now sedate Harry. "I think you do more than you know." She turned to go.

"Do you think he would have done the same, if you had let him, when he came here?" He had to ask. The question had been plaguing his mind from the moment Poppy told them Harry had been there during his stay.

A look of pained guilt crossed her face, and the older woman exhaled deeply. "Harry has the greatest capacity to love out of anyone I have ever known, and that is saying something." She held up a hand to stop Draco's reply. "He's no saint, trust me. He's human." She gave an odd smirk. "Ask him about Dumbledore's office, and what happened last year."

Draco's eyes widened in curiosity, but he said nothing.

"I believe that had I allowed it, neither one of you would be here right now. He has an amazing ability to forgive, but it is never for himself. Maybe, if he had stayed that night, he might have found some. That is my burden to bear in all of this," she spoke quietly. "Would you have been ready to listen then?"

Severus had asked essentially the same question the night before, and Draco had to admit he probably wouldn't have. He was too torn up at that time, physically and emotionally. It was only afterward, when he had really taken the time to think about what had happened, that he saw the terror and anguish in those emerald eyes. Despite that, it was the way he found Harry last night that became the turning point for him.

"No," he whispered, then cleared his throat. "I wouldn't have. I was angry, furious even. Nothing he could say at that point would have made me consider hearing him out."

"Then why are you here, now?" she asked.

Draco looked down at their hands. "Because I found out we have more in common than we do differences," he said simply.

Poppy nodded and left them to their solitude. There was a deep sadness and understanding in those simple words. And it hurt to hear them. The knowledge that two young men who should have been involved in silly things children do had grown up far too fast due to the neglect of their elders was a heavy thought on her shoulders. She knew what parts she had played, knew what help she had been allowed to give. Now, they both were suffering for it.

"Damn Albus and his ways," she muttered. "And damn You-Know-Who too." To her, they were one and the same. Cowards hiding behind children, handing the fates of their worlds over to teenage boys and destroying the precious innocence they had. Peeking back out at the two ex-rivals, she shook her head sadly. May Merlin help them all. Vengeance, should the blond and the black haired boys choose to wreck it, would be harsh and well deserved.

And wouldn't that be a sight to see.

Draco, assured that Poppy would not be disturbing them for awhile, leaned over and brushed the hair from Harry's forehead. Tracing a finger over the infamous scar, he sighed. "Merlin, Potter...Harry... I don't even now what to call you anymore." He ran his hand through his own hair. "You know, I had a goal this year, a mission if you will. You see, that little trip to the Ministry last year that you and your little friends took; it destroyed my family. And because of that, I was tasked with regaining glory for our name. I blamed you, I despised you, hated everything you stood for, everything you did. And then..." he sank into the chair beside Harry's bed and took the boy's hand again. He squeezed it tightly, trying to convey a wealth of emotions just through touch. "You go and do this. How am I supposed to act now? You've changed the game, Harry; and I don't know the rules any more. So you have to wake up, alright? Because this..." he motioned broadly in the space between them. "This whatever we have, this empathy, it means something, I know. I think you do too. That's why you came to see me, wasn't it? I wasn't ready to talk then. I am now."

He waited in the silence for something, anything that would tell him his message had been received. And in the quiet of the moment, a hand was squeezed and a deep sigh issued from Harry's lips. For the first time all year, Draco finally allowed himself a small shard of hope. Calm settled around them, and Draco leaned back in contentment. He wasn't alone anymore.


	13. With Friends Like These

**Disclaimer: So, as a V-day present to myself... I bought Severus! *sighs* and then, I woke up.  
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A/N: The return of the oblivious dunderheaded duo has arrived! Slight explanation as to how I portray Ron and Hermione here: I recently rewatched HBP and notice the lack of involvement those two had throughout much of the movie. They seemed so distracted with everything else, how could they not notice what Harry was dealing with? Ron- so focused on first Lavender and then Hermione and Quiddich and his petty little jealousies. And Hermione- focused on her jealousy of Lav, and her feelings for Ron, and her annoyance with Harry for his Potions progress. When Harry brought up things about Draco, they were pushed aside. Even their reactions to his fight were muted. Besides the fact that I am not a strong supporter of Ron at all, I find his character to be insecure, irrational, petty and all to often given to silly bouts of envy at the most inopportune time. However, since I can't find my HBP book right now, I'm going off my observations from the movie. I will not be bashing either of them per say- I just call it as I see it. So I ask that there be no flames thrown, please. Enjoy!**  
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><p><strong>13- With Friends Like These...<strong>

Good friends were rare luxuries in Harry Potter's life. He had precious few, and none of those were made until after his life changed with a single letter. Turning eleven and receiving his Hogwarts letter opened doors he never imagined were there. Throughout the years, Harry held the ones he viewed as friends closely to him. They were precious, as gems in his darken life.

However, in his fifth year everything went sideways for him. Angry with the lack of information from Dumbledore, followed by the subsequent torture that masqueraded as Occlumency lessons with Snape, Harry left Hogwarts feeling let down and disillusioned. Wracked with guilt over his own shortcoming, the injuries dealt to his companions and the death of his wander wise Godfather, he had pulled farther away from those he once trusted and watched as they turned to others and then each other in comfort. Even his short fling with Ginny made him feel empty and lost. He was drowning in a sea of despair without hope of someone to save him. After all, wasn't he the Savior of them all? Meant to be that beacon of hope and pillar of unbending strength? So how could he expect something in return? Who really had the time to notice anyway?

It all came to a head during that fateful fight with Malfoy, when he realized just how far he had fallen. Coupled with the tasks set before him by Dumbledore and the horrors that he found within, Harry had sunk into a hole of darkness which he had no real way of climbing out of.

Through it all, his friends remained oblivious, happy to continue in their own romances, growing as normal hormonal teenagers should. Hence, it was no surprise that neither Ron, nor Hermione noticed his absence until hours after it had occurred. And being the companions of the Golden Boy as they were, immediately thought it their right to know exactly what had occurred, demand explanations for Harry and to find blame with someone.

Unfortunately, this desire for knowledge and the itch to fight happened upon them during their lunch hour, when it became apparent to them both that Harry was not going to join them. Therefore, they quickly ate their lunch and left the Great Hall, much to the distress of Ron, whom thought his stomach would starve if he did not fill it to bursting capacity. Hermione, annoyed with him as usual, merely huffed and scolded him soundly. And so it was a mood of irritation that surrounded them as they made their way to the Infirmary Wing in search of their wayward friend.

"I don't see why you're so upset, Hermione. Harry's fine, I'm sure. Just off for a bit of quiet probably," Ron complained.

"Honestly Ron, could you be any less concerned? You said he didn't come back last night, and no one has seen him all day. He's been... well... off lately. Haven't you noticed?" Hermione remarked.

Ron shrugged, gazing longingly at his crush as she looked around the hall. Why worry? Harry hadn't exactly confided in them much this year. His obsession with all things Malfoy and Snape grated on Ron's more simple mind. He didn't see what the big deal was. Besides, there were better things to concentrate on. Like Quiddich. And girls. The lovely girls this year. It was amazing how much he hadn't noticed before. Well he had, but not to the point where he dared do anything about it. But Lavender had enilighted him to the pleasures he had been missing out on.

"Maybe he's got a girl," he suggested. It seemed logical enough, didn't it?

Hermione paused in her march down the halls. "A girl? The only girl I know he's interested in is Gin...Oh..." she sputtered, her hands flying to her mouth and her eyes wide. Watching in horror, she saw Ron's face take on a sickly white before flushing a dangerous red.

"Ginny? As in my sister? I'll hex him!" he raged.

Hermione shook her head, but the damage was already done. "Ron! Ron," she squeaked, grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him to a halt. "I don't know anything for sure. And why are you angry anyway? He's your best friend. Isn't he better than Dean?"

Ron shook her off, storming quickly away, his angry strides eating up the stone floor. Reaching the Infirmary Wing, he threw open the doors, determined to give his best mate a piece of his mind.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione groaned. Hell was about to break loose, she was sure of it. And all she could do was watch, and hope to not get burned.


	14. Who Needs Enemies?

**Disclaimer: not mine... lather, rinse, repeat...**

A/N: Longest chapter so far! I hope this helps give you an understanding into both Ron's reactions, and Draco's future actions. Again, really tried to keep them all in character. Hope I succeeded. Thanks to all those who continue to review. And annon- who ever you are... you're a gem. I cherish each and everyone who takes the time to review. It really does make my day. **  
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><p><strong>14- Who Needs Enemies?<strong>

The slamming of the Infirmary door shattered the perfect calm that had settled upon the patients and visitors within the wing. Harry, still frozen in unconsciousness and anchored by Draco's grasp, twitched and restlessly moved his head. Shocked by the sound, Draco quickly cast a privacy ward around them both in hopes of deterring whomever it was that had decided to announce their presence so uncouthly. It would allow him to hear what was going on outside, but discouraged anyone unwelcome from taking a peek. Thankful that Pomfrey had thought it prudent to him, he gave a short nod to the woman as she bustled over to the intruders. With the noise dulled, Harry fell back into a fragile slumber.

His pointy features soften and eyes focused on his charge, Draco gave a sigh and leaned back in his seat. His ears perked up as Harry's name was shouted out. With a sneer and roll of the eyes, he once again wondered at the stupidity named Weasley. It seemed that the deplorable dunderheaded duo, as Severus called them on occasion, had finally worked out where Harry might be. Draco snorted. If it was him looking for the Gryffindor, the first place he checked would have been here. Known for his rather accident prone school career, Harry was more often than not confined to a bed under the watchful eye of Poppy. Which reminded the blond- he had some questions regarding her statements the night before about Harry's condition at the beginning of the year.

An outcry of anger pulled him from his musing and back to the drama unfolding just feet away from him.

"Where's Harry?" Ronald demanded loudly. "We need to talk, now."

The nerve of the boy was astounding, even if he was completely barmy challenging Poppy within her domain. "And you know this how, Mr. Weasley? Have you been sent here by a professor perhaps?" she questioned, a hard edge to her tone.

Hermione tugged insistingly at his arm, realizing the situation was less than friendly. Ron, on the other hand, was either oblivious, or simply foolhardy and pushed past the matron, scanning the room behind her. Draco could hear the stomping of his heavy feet and shook his head in disbelief.

"I know he's here, Hermione. He's always here." The disgust in Ron's tone was like a slap to Hermione's senses. What was going on with her crush? Granted, he hadn't been exactly wonderful lately, blowing hot then cold. Nevertheless, this sort of behavior was uncalled for.

"Ron..." she began, but he had little time or patience for her excuses.

"No, you said he was here. You said he wanted my sister. So we are going to have a talk, he and I. I'm going to set him straight."

Hermione rushed forward and grabbed his hand, jerking him to a halt. "Ronald Weasley. What has gotten into you? I didn't say anything about him being in the infirmary. And as for Gin, I still can't see why you're upset. But you can't talk to Madam Pomfrey like that," she chastised.

With a wrench of his arm, Ron pulled away from the bushy haired witch and continued his search for Harry. He wasn't sure why he felt so betrayed by the idea himself. Something tickled the back of his mind, something that spoke of irrationalities and supposed slights. It rankled him. He was tired of being left out of the loop, the limelight his friend wandered in. If Harry liked Ginny, shouldn't he have talked to Ron about it? Wasn't that what best friends were for? That was the whole point of the guys' night in the dorms. Harry was hardly ever around anymore, and when he was, he was too preoccupied with whatever to join in. He had kept secrets from them, dodged their questions continually.

And now he had the nerve to disappear and make them all worry. Had Harry given any thought as to how any of this was effecting his friends? Ron paused in his fruitless search with a scowl. Of all the beds occupied, none held Harry. Frustrated with his lack of results, he turned and pinned Hermione with a glare before directing his attention to Poppy.

"Was he here?" he asked simply.

Poppy drew herself up to her full height and narrowed her eyes, giving a look that rivaled Snape's own Death Glare. "Mr. Weasley, I neither have to, nor will disclose anything regarding Mr. Potter or anyone else who may or may not be here in the wing. Whether or not I have attended to him is none of your business. And I suggest you curb your tongue before you find yourself in detention with Professor Snape," she replied sharply. Ron made to retort but found Hermione's elbow planted into his ribs. He huffed and shot her a dark look.

"We're sorry, Madam Pomfrey. We are just worried about Harry. He hasn't been himself lately, and it seemed logical that he might end up here," Hermione said with a look of contrite appeal.

Poppy inclined her head in acceptance of the girl's apology, although she doubted her red headed companion shared in her sentiments. "Be that as it may, since neither of you appear to be suffering from an injury, I must ask you to leave. You have disturbed the peace and rest of my patients long enough. If you are truly concerned for Mr. Potter's well being, I suggest you ask one of your professors, or the Headmaster, perhaps." Inwardly she smirked, knowing Hermione would hound Dumbledore for answers tenaciously. Good, let the old man answer for his crimes.

Knowing she would get no further with the strict matron, Hermione dipped her head in acknowledgment and dragged the silently fuming Ron from the room. Seconds later, the curtains around Harry's bed twitch and Poppy's head appeared. She smiled exasperatedly at Draco.

"You can drop the ward now," she informed him. Draco waved his wand and raised one brow.

"That was... interesting," he intoned. Poppy pressed a hand to Harry's forehead, then looked over at his companion.

"No, it was typical. Harry really is the oddity in that group. He doesn't quite fit with their ideals, does he?"

Draco frowned and thought back over what he knew and had discerned over the past two days. "No," he agreed. "I'm beginning to understand what you have said about him."

Poppy smiled softly and tucked the blankets tightly around Harry's body. "At least someone does. He seems calmer than he did earlier. Did the incident disturb him in any way?"

"He moved around a bit when the Weasel first came in, but that charm you showed me did the trick. How long do you think he will be like this?"

"Another day, perhaps. His exhaustion is acute, and it will be a while even after he awakes before he is back to the Harry Potter we all know," she informed him.

"Or the one he wants everyone to see" Draco countered. He had to wonder if Harry would really recover completely from his ordeal, or if he was too broken to pretend any more. Poppy seemed to read his mind and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It showed how much Harry had effect the blond boy when he simply sighed and bowed his head.

"Then we will be here for him, won't we?" Poppy replied. Draco's silence was answer enough. "Come. Lunch will be over soon. He will sleep for several more hours."

With another squeeze of Harry's hand, Draco rose and smoothed the wrinkles from his robe. He let his gaze linger for a moment longer on Harry's tired and drawn face. "I'

ll be back after dinner," he told the kindly woman.

She nodded her head. "Try not to worry too much. Harry's is and has always been a fighter. He'll make it through this. He just needs a little help."

"He'll get it too," Draco promised. With a wave of his hand, he left the enclosure, although Poppy was sure his mind was still on the broken young man laying there. Only time would tell how Harry's situation would effect everyone involved. A shiver went down her spine and she shook her head. Forces were at play here, forces that would change history, she felt certain.

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><p>Next Chapter: Harry wakes... and we find out what he has been up to this year. Severus' comes to some shocking conclusions... Just how far has Dumbledore fallen?<p> 


	15. Breaking Down

**Disclaimer: I wonder... does Rowling get migraine when she writes? Despite the pain, they still aren't mine.**

A/N: Longer chapter ahead. It got away from me. Terribly sorry. And I hated to break it where I did. But the next chapter really needs to be by itself. *giggles madly* Yes, yes. I know Snape seems OCC here. And he is admittedly. However, he had taken Harry under his protection, and as fragile as he is, if Severus were to act in his typical canon manner towards Harry, the results would be catastrophic. I am trusting him to know that. He is still our Snark Potions Master, and you will notice I didn't make him all huggy and mushy. They will still butt heads throughout the rest of the story on occasion. So hopefully you won't all abandon me? *pleads* Oh! And someone asked if Poppy was a Hufflepuff in canon. I couldn't find a direct answer. Does anyone know for sure? I have heard that before, but I'm not sure as to the accuracy of the assumption.

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><p><strong>15- Breaking Down<strong>

It was slightly after dinner had finished when Severus managed to get back into the Infirmary again. The room was pleasantly warm and thankfully quiet, with only Harry as its single occupant. Looking around for Poppy, the Potions Master noted the drawn curtains around Harry's bed, and the lack of sound, even though he could see a shadow within. Curious, he made his way over, pausing when he detected an erected privacy ward.

"Severus, you may come through," Poppy's muffled voice called out from behind the curtain. With a frown, he accepted the invitation, slipping into the enclosure silently.

"What warranted the privacy ward, Poppy?" he asked, looking down at the sleeping boy before him.

Poppy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in weariness. "Mr. Potter's friends decided to pay a visit," she began. Severus lifted a brow in question. "While Mr. Malfoy was tending to him." The second brow shot up. "It seems Mr. Weasley was quite put out by something he thinks Harry has done, and decided to announce his frustration to all and sundry. I'm sure Draco passed on my message to you this morning?" The man nodded in agreement, waiting for her to continue. She waved her wand over Harry's body, reading the results as they appeared. "I thought it prudent to teach Draco that spell, and thankfully he had the foresight to use it while we were being invaded."

Severus could tell by the edge in her voice that more had happened than she was letting on. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy can be rather astute when given the right motivation. And the third of the Golden Trio? How did Miss Granger react?"

"The same as usual. Apologetic of Weasley's behavior, curious as to Harry's whereabouts. I think she was the one to suggest he might be here."

"I take it you somehow redirected her concerns?"

"Of course," Poppy smirked in a rather Slytherin way. "I told her to ask a Professor, or better yet the Headmaster, if she truly wanted answers."

Severus sneered, a malicious twinkle in his eye. "Did you now? Most cunning of you." He gazed down at Harry as the boy stirred and let out a whimper. "Is he awakening?"

Poppy touched his hand and he turned his head in her direction. "It's possible. I will allow him to come around for a while. We will see how he reacts." She stepped up beside his head, smoothing his hair from his head. He nuzzled it briefly, groaning.

Severus frowned. That was a bit different than he expected Potter to act. Then again, he was finding more and more often that Harry wasn't anything like he previously thought. Harry thrashed around a bit, his hand reaching up and pressing to his scar. It still looked red and irritated. Slowly, those green eyes blinked, then slammed shut as the light hit them. He turned his head away, trying to bury it into his pillow. Poppy muttered a spell and the enclosure was lit by a soft light, blocking off the harsh lighting in the rest of the Infirmary.

"Narg...uh..." Harry moaned, finally opening his eyes completely. Fuzzy images filled his sight and he shook his head rapidly. Someone slipped his glasses onto his face, and he frowned as his vision cleared. "Shite," he whispered as he realized exactly where he was. Somehow, he had ended up in the Infirmary. Well, that wasn't anything new, really. However, it was not at all where he wanted to be. He spent far too much time there as it was.

"Eloquent as always, Mr. Potter," the deep silken voice of his Potions Professor... er... DA Professor now, drew his attention to the side. He peered through slit eyes at the dark figure looming over him.

"Snape," he grumbled. "Brilliant."

Poppy snickered, trying to hide a laugh. Oh yes, Harry was certainly awake, and thankfully coherent enough to know who was beside him. "Harry, how do you feel?" she asked kindly.

Harry tossed his head in her direction and gave a halfhearted shrug of his thin shoulders. Dull pain echoed throughout his form, from his head to his toes. "Tired, sore... er... annoyed?"

She nodded, ignoring Severus' half hidden snort. Passing over a vial of Pain Potion, she narrowed her eyes. Harry gulped it down in one go and made a face. "Yes, I suppose you would. You have been asleep for over 20 hours now. Mr. Malfoy found you collapsed up in the Astronomy Tower and Professor Snape brought you in here. You sustained several injures." She frowned at him and he squirmed under the scrutiny. "Just what were you doing up there in the dead of night?"

Harry dropped his head and shrugged again, his cheeks red in embarrassment. "Nothing. Thinking, I guess," he replied softly.

Poppy shook her head. "You just about froze up there, Harry. Do you understand?"

His head shot up and he gave his best glare, but he refused to reply. Exasperated, Poppy threw up her hands and dipped her head towards Severus with a knowing look in her eyes. Severus seemed to catch on, summoning a chair and sitting in it as Poppy walked away.

Harry turned his glare to his Professor, although he knew it wouldn't phase the man. After all, Snape had the lock on Death Glares. Just ask the first year Hufflepuffs. A starring contest began, neither man willing to lower their gaze. Several minutes passed as Severus took in Harry's countenance. However, Harry's exhausted body soon gave up and he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping in defeat.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

It should have sounded belligerent. Instead, it came across as a man broken and ready to give up. Shocked by the tone, Severus' gaze snapped back to the younger man's face. The lines around his eyes and the gauntness of his features painted a picture of depression and powerlessness. "Poppy wasn't exaggerating when she said you were frozen. You could very well have died last night."

"And you care?" Harry mocked, opening his eyes. Severus bit his tongue in an attempt to keep his anger at bay. If he wanted to help the boy, he would need to remain calm.

"Despite what you may believe, I do not wish to see you dead, Potter."

Harry barked out a bitter laugh, as brittle as glass. It raised the hairs on the back of Severus neck. The sound was haunting, and so very cold. "Oh yes, can't have the Chosen One die before his time, now can we? He has to die by old Voldie's hand, can't even take his own life."

His heart hammering in his chest, Severus sat forward, his eyes wide with dismay. If these were the thoughts Harry had running through his head, they were in far greater trouble than he supposed. "What are you on about, Potter?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's Harry, dammit. I'm not James!" Harry cried. "Can't you for once in your sodding miserable life see that?" His breaths hissed out of his lungs, harsh with pain. He clutched his hand to his heart, wrapping the other around his middle, and squeezed his eyes shut against the burn of tears. Merlin, of all the people to break down in front of, Snape was the last one he wanted to see him like this. He'd never live it down. A single thought floated through his panicking mind- Was this how Malfoy had felt?

Severus held up his hands in surrender, his eyes softening "Alright. Hush now, Harry," he said quietly, keeping his tone as gentle as he could. He had experienced panic attacks with his Slytherins before. It was never a pretty sight. He grasped Harry's wrists and held them lightly in his hands. Smoothing his thumbs over the pulse points, he waited until Harry's breathing became deeper. "That's it, just breathe. Look at me, Harry," he commanded. Shattered green eyes flickered up to his and Severus speculated that this was how he looked the night before. No wonder Draco was concerned. "Breathe. In... Out..."

Harry followed his instructions without a word, not moving his gaze away from the black one in front of him. Slowly his heart calmed and he sank back into the pillows.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Much has happened over the last few days, Harry."

A small smile turned up his lips and he closed his eyes again. "Thanks."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Severus observing Harry, turning the words he had said over in his mind. "Poppy mentioned you had tried to see Mr. Malfoy when he was convalescing here. Might I ask why?"

Harry didn't reply right away, choosing to sit up slightly and look the Potions Master over with an expression of consideration. "Do you know what really happened in that bathroom?"

Severus nodded. "Draco spoke of it."

Snorting, Harry turned away. "Did he now? Did he tell you how I just stood there when he was bleeding out all over the floor? How I couldn't move to help him? How I didn't know what to do?" he spat, his voice tinged with pain and guilt.

"He said you looked... broken," Severus replied, unsure how to approach the matter. So, Draco's observations were true. Harry felt he held all the blame. "He also told me that he had cast an _Unforgivable_ at you."

Harry laughed again and it sounded just as sharp as before. "Oh yeah, 'cause cutting open his torso was so much better than a _Cruciatus._

"He could have tortured you into insanity. Have you forgotten the Longbottoms?" Severus hissed.

"And I could have killed him! He might have been no better than Bellatrix, sure. But I'm just like Voldemort, killing people and standing by as they die," Harry yelled.

Poppy peeked into the enclosure, but was waved away with a look from the Potions Master. She hovered just outside, listening to their conversation. As much as she didn't like to hear Harry's raised voice, she thought that perhaps it might be exactly what he needed to begin healing.

"Did you know the counter spell? Did you have any idea what it could do when you cast it?" Severus challenged.

"Of course not. I wouldn't have used it if I had," Harry sneered.

"Then how in Merlin's name are you like the Dark Lord? He has not any doubt in his mind when he uses a spell, for torture, death or otherwise. Trust me, I know." He paused, closely scrutinizing Harry's expression. "Do you feel remorse for what you did?"

Harry's head whipped around swiftly, his eyes wide. "I... It hurts to even think about it. Like my heart is being torn into pieces when I remember. All that blood, and his face, and the look you gave me. Like I was a monster, like I was **HIM**. I... I… just..." he shuddered, tears slipping down his face unheeded. "I didn't mean it," he begged quietly.

Severus brought out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears. "I know."

"But..." Harry sputtered, confused. Nothing was going as it should be. Everything seemed so different. That wasn't the reaction he expected. The very idea of Snape showing him anything other than disgust, disdain and hatred was so foreign, his mind felt tilted. "Draco..." he began, grasping for some sort of normality.

"He knows too. Is that why you were up there last night?"

Harry bowed his head, thoughts whirling with the implications of what his revelations could have. Swiping a hand over his stinging eyes, he took a leap of faith. "Part of it, I guess," he mumbled.

"Will you tell me the other reasons?"

"You said things changed." He took a deep breath. "I need to tell someone." He pinned Severus with his green eyes. "You hate me, or did. But you might be the only one who can understand. If I trust you, will I regret it tomorrow?" It was a daring challenge, but one he had to make. Snape's answer could make or break him, he knew. He was dancing on a precarious edge, even now. One wrong step and he'd fall.

Taken aback by the very serious question, and the haunted look in the boy's eyes, Severus realized just how deeply Harry was hurt. His vow to protect and help him came to the forefront of his mind. He had a feeling what he was going to hear could potentially change everything... again. Holding Harry's gaze, allowing the younger man to see the sincerity in his face, he shook his head.

"Whatever you have to say, Harry; whatever is going on, I will try my best to help you. You aren't what you seem. And while I will never think fondly of your father, or his friends, I know now that you are your own person. Your reaction to Draco's condition is proof enough of that. I'm willing to give you a chance, if you will do the same."

With a deep breath of relief, Harry twisted his hands in his lap and bit his lip before nodding. "Tell me, sir. What do you know of Horcruxes?"

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><p><strong>Next Chapter:<strong> Things will begin to pick up rapidly. What does a memory cost? Is knowledge always something worth having? How far has Dumbledore manipulations gone? Severus and Harry talk. The repercussions will be great...


	16. Falling Puzzle Pieces

**Disclaimer: *cackles loudly* Mine! Mine! All Mine! *is thumped* **

A/N: Gasp! I know! An update on a Sunday! I couldn't resist. We have a bit of Snarky Snape in this one. Isn't he fun? I don't think I strayed very far from canon just yet. Other than the obvious. Although the end is, I know. But it serves my plot. *grins evilly* Um... hope you enjoy. And thank you for the reviews I have received. You are all so lovely.

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><p><strong>16- Falling Puzzle Pieces<br>**

"Horcrux?" Severus questioned cautiously. "That is an advanced form of dark magic. Perhaps one of the most evil rituals of our world." He watched Harry closely, uneasy when the boy showed no surprise at his words.

"It's the tearing of the caster's soul into pieces, through the act of murder," Harry concluded without emotion.

"And you ascertained this, how?" The question was tinged with barely held anger. The thought that Harry could be involved in something so horrific... "I know your Gryffindor stupidity often times leads you astray. As such, even possessing the cognition of the Horcruxes is foolhardy and extremely dangerous. What could you possibly gain from knowing about something like that? Haven't you learned..." He paused immediately. Harry was neither dark, nor foolish enough to want to do something so foul. So there had to be another explanation for his inquiry. "You do not seem surprised," he remarked.

The black messy head inclined briefly before Harry reached up and rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion exuded from his body, the weight of knowledge pressing down upon his thin shoulders. "Do you what Dumbledore has had me doing this year?" he asked.

Guilt rode through Severus as he thought of their conversations the night before, and the one earlier in the year. "I know he has certain... shall we say, expectations for you to fulfill."

Pain flickered through Harry's face as his green eyes darkened. "Yes, you could say that. Do you know the particulars?"

Severus shook his head. Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they held empathy for the dark man before him. It was rather disconcerting to observe. "Professor Slughorn was brought here for a reason. He was reinstated into the Potions' Professor post as a way for Dumbledore to get something from him." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Confusion and a sense of injustice filled Severus. "What have you to apologize for?"

Harry's head whipped up and his eyes flashed with anger. It was a breathtaking sight and reminded Severus of Lily when she was distressed. "Because, it's not fair to you," he ground out through gritted teeth, his fists clenching into the sheets covering his legs. "Because you finally got what you wanted, but it wasn't on your own merits. Because this whole year has been filled with nothing but lies. Lies to you, to me... hell even to Draco. Because you are stuck in a situation that you should have to be in." He twisted the fabric with white knuckles, biting his lower lip hard enough to turn it bloodless. He gasped in breaths rapidly, trying to calm the fury that threaten to overtake him once again.

Severus, shocked into silence, took note of Harry's crumbling defenses and placed a hand over the pale ones on the bed. The very idea that Harry could be incensed by wrongs, real or perceived heaped upon the snaky Potions Master who had made his life a living hell for years now, was so far beyond his comprehension. He lifted Harry's chin, making the younger man meet his eyes and held his fiery gaze. Those emeralds blazed unnaturally, and for once, Severus understood the depth of Harry's soul, and the burn of his pain.

"Harry," he began slowly, hoping to defuse the situation before Harry leveled the Wing. "You have given this a lot of thought, haven't you?" The jaw tightened in his grip, then Harry nodded. Severus sighed. "I want you to listen to me. None of that is your fault. You have no control over what the Headmaster, or the Dark Lord does. Do you understand?"

"I know," Harry replied quietly.

"Good," Severus nodded in satisfaction.

Shaking his head, Harry tugged at his hair harshly. "No, not that." He tried to turn away, but Severus' grip held firm. "I know what Draco's task is. And I know what you have to do. I know what Voldemort had done, and I know what I have to do to end it all."

The silence that followed was deafening. Harry panted heavily, his heart hammering a broken tattoo in his chest. He waited for the fallout that was sure to come. He watched as realization struck Severus, the horror and deep sorrow that followed.

"How?" Severus hissed painfully, his heart shattering at Harry's revelation.

Shrugging slightly, his eyes burning with tears he refused to let fall, the boy began his tale. "You know how last year we thought Volde..." he saw his companion flinch and paused. "Er... sorry... how You-Know-Who might have a connection with me. And that's how he got me to go to the Ministry, yeah? Well, turns out, it goes both ways."

"Both ways?" Severus was flabbergasted. They hadn't thought of that, although it made perfect sense.

"Um... yeah." Harry frowned. "I guess I should start at the beginning. He's been quiet since that day in the Ministry, some visions; but mostly emotions that come through, like he was planning something big, something he was very sure about. It's a sick feeling to have, the giddiness and glee, and knowing it can't be a good thing." Harry shivered, trying to forget. "Dumbledore found out I wasn't really sticking to my relatives house much. Things were... uncomfortable to say the least after the Dementor attack on my cousin and I."

"Uncomfortable? Did they not give you enough attention?" Severus sneered, his old attitude rising to the surface. Harry's glare was deadly, although the Professor could see he had somehow hurt the younger man by his words.

"If we are going to talk, _Professor_," Harry spat, "then you need to forget what you think you know about me. You saw my memories last year. You saw what kind of hell I have to live in. And trust me, you only caught glimpsed of the realities I get to endure each summer. So don't give me that shite. _You know._"

Thinking back over their lessons, and what he had witnessed, as well as the new knowledge he had about Harry, he dipped his head in acknowledgment. "I apologize. I was out of line." He peered guardedly at him. "When you say uncomfortable, what do you mean?"

"It wasn't as bad as it could have been, I suppose," Harry shrugged halfheartedly. "I mean other kids have it worse, right. And I did almost get my cousin killed. So Dudley was a little rougher when he and his gang smacked around me, and I went without food for a few more days than usual. Nothing I couldn't handle really."

Severus' ire rose and his face twisted into a mask of fury. He wanted to rail at Harry for his nonchalant attitude, to ask what was 'a little rougher,' but knew that it wasn't the time to do so. He would, however, be readdressing the issue and things would be taken care of in the very near future. He had a feeling that Poppy might have some of the answers he needed. Tempering his anger, he pulled his face into an expression of calm and waited for the Gryffindor to continue.

"Anyway, Dumbledore showed up one day, gave me some weird cryptic lines and took me to see Slughorn." He let out a giggle. "He was a chair, if you'll believe it. He wasn't going to do it, at first. Coward, really. Too afraid of what the Death Eaters would do if they found him. I guess I should have caught on then, but I didn't know what to look for." He sighed. "I mean, I know Dumbledore is manipulative most times, and that he never does anything without there being some motive. I think I was just happy he was talking to me again. The silence of last year wasn't very nice. Kinda drove me barmy a bit."

"It was an unwise move on the Headmaster's part, I will agree." Severus thought for a moment. "Then Slughorn agreed to teach again because... of you?"

Harry shrugged. "I think so. Who could pass up the chance to teach the Great Harry Potter?" he said bitterly. "Besides, Mum was one of his favorites. It was like raw meat to a Threstal. I didn't even think what it would do to you."

"As I expect you wouldn't. I'm sure you were more than happy at the thought that I might be gone, unable to torment you?" Strangely, the question was asked with very little vitriol.

"Well, yeah. You and I haven't ever really seen eye to eye. And with Slughorn's lower grade expectations, I knew I could get into the his Advanced NEWT class."

"The Auror program requires Advanced Potions," Severus stated.

Harry nodded, then shook his head. "That's what I wanted it for, at first. Now..." He turned away. "Well, never mind. So, Slughorn came back, and Dumbledore let on that he had something that was needed. Information of some sort. He thought I could get it, get in his good graces, like Mum."

"I have heard of your new found prowess in Potions. Although, after seeing what happened in the lavatory with Draco, I am assuming it was not by your own skills alone."

"I got to Potions late the first class, and because of everything that happened over the summer, I wasn't able to pick up my books. So I borrowed one of the old books in the classroom. Whomever had it before was a bloody genius, had all sorts of notations and advice on how to make them better. And spells..." he ducked his head, his cheeks flaming red in memory of one spell.

Severus waited for him to collect himself again. Oh yes, he knew all about that book; what the deadly treasures it contained. He wanted to comfort the distraught boy, but wasn't sure it would be welcomed. He knew he would have to tip his hand soon, though. Harry had the right to know. He cleared his throat gently.

Harry swiped his hand across his eyes and smiled wanly. "Sorry. Um... oh... I got a vial of _Felix Felicis_ for brewing the best potion in class." He frowned. "I wonder...It seems too convenient now..."

"Perhaps you would like to share, Harry?" Severus asked, drawing the young man back to their conversation.

"The book, the potion..." Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore kept showing me memories of Tom Riddle's life- his childhood, some of the things he did here at Hogwarts. One of them was a fake memory of Professor Slughorn's. Riddle went to him for information on how to create something. Something dangerous. Slughorn told him, but the memory was obscure on what it was. Dumbledore wanted me to get Slughorn to give me the correct memory. He said it is the key to Riddle's continued existence. I tried, several times. But Slughorn- he was too careful, too cautious to outright tell me. So I had to come up with a different way to trick him in to telling me."

Understanding dawned in those black eyes. "You took the _Felix Felicis_, didn't you?"

"I did," Harry nodded with a scowl. "I saw what Draco's whatever was doing to him. I saw him crying, Professor, that day in the loo. I saw how horribly broken he had become, and I hated it. Sure, we aren't friends. But I don't like to see others in pain. Especially when I can understand how they feel. Somewhere along the way, I figured out that if I used the potion, I might be able to get what I needed and finally we could end all this."

"Did it work?" Severus breathed. He had never been in possession of the elixir, but the very idea was a heavy one.

"Like a charm," Harry smirked darkly.

Severus shook his head, beginning to discern what Harry was alluding to. The entire tale stank of underhanded machinations. His book, the one he had hidden away years ago, suddenly turned up in the very classroom Harry would be attending. Harry's lack of the proper books, when it would have been no trouble for him to be allowed to pick up his own before school term started. Using the book to gain a rare and precious potion that would no doubt help him in his task. The puzzle was coming together, painting a very grim picture.

"Professor Slughorn revealed his memory to you, then? And it was of the Horcruxes, was it not?"

"It was, yes. He got drunk with Hagrid and let it slip that he had told Riddle how to make them, and the idea that more than one could be created," Harry finished quietly, his fingers now fidgeting with the blanket, picking at the weave restlessly.

The implications were daunting, terrifying. Severus sat back in his chair with a groan. _More than one._ True, Dumbledore had suspected as much, believing that Harry might be something like that as well. They knew the ring had held something evil. That could be two, then. But more than that?

"How many do you think there are, Harry?" he asked, dread curling in the pit of his stomach.

Harry sat there mutely. He already knew the answer. But to say it out loud-it would be confirming his own fate. He swallowed thickly. "I know there are seven. And I'm one of them."

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><p>Next Chapter: Harry reveals his secrets- some of them. And the backlash of them puts him in danger.<p> 


	17. The Cost of a Memory

**Disclaimer: You would think just by reading the word 'disclaimer' that you'd know it isn't mine, right?**

A/N: My apologies on the lateness of the chapter, but last week was crazy, and this week will be as well. In addition, while I was editing this and other chapters, I was struck by a plot bunny that moved the story in a different and smoother direction. So I am rewriting some of the upcoming chapters. I am really excited with the way it is shaping up. I just hope you will enjoy it too. I don't know... seems like my last few chapters have flopped. Hopefully this one will be more to your liking? Anywho, reviews welcome, and appreciated. Flames... well remember what happened in the RoR!

Warnings: Snape is a bit OCC here, I guess, but given the circumstances, wouldn't you be too? AU from here on out, for the most part.

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><p><strong>17- The Cost of a Memory<strong>

There were very few times in Severus Snape's life that he could say he had been completely speechless. With Harry's unveiling of the truth, he found himself in just such an instance. The silence that crashed down upon them was deafening. Unsure what to say, what could possibly make this any better, Severus stared unblinkingly into those emerald eyes. The shattered soul housed within the Gryffindor's body was easily seen. There was anguish, and resignation in the green depths, and it sickened the Potions Master. His heart shuddered and his stomach turned as the implications finally sunk in.

"Seven?" he whispered. Harry nodded, waiting. "And you are one of them."

"The last," Harry replied just as quietly. "From what I gathered from You-Know-Who's mind, he doesn't even know what he did that Halloween night."

Pressing his fingers together, Severus leaned forward. "You mentioned that your link worked both ways. Can you explain that further?"

Harry frowned. "I'm not sure how it all works. It might've had something to do with the _Felix Felicis_. It was still in my system when I went to sleep that night."

"And when was this?"

"Three... no, four nights ago." He held up a hand to stop the Potion Master's tirade. Severus sat back with a glare, arms folded over his chest and his lips drawn in a grim line. "I know, it's stupid to fall asleep while still under that potion's influence. But it does direct you into situations that'll get what you need, right?" Harry asked.

Severus' quirked a brow, cataloging the effects of the 'good luck' potion. "Usually, circumstances will lend themselves to being enhanced by the potion. It clears the mind and enables the user to think intelligibly, with precised concentration. I assume you felt that way while conversing with Professor Slughorn?"

Harry shrugged. "It felt more like I was being tugged in a certain direction. Strange, right? I ended up down by the Greenhouses, when I met up with Slughorn. He was after some clippings of a plant. I was heading to Hagrid's. I knew I needed to be there, but I had no idea why. It wasn't until everything happened that I knew why I was there in the first place." Harry shook his head and ran a hand agitatedly through him messy hair.

"You obtained the memory. What took place after that?" Severus prodded.

"I fell asleep on Hagrid's sofa. Or at least I think I was asleep. It wasn't too long before I felt the pull again and followed it inside my mind. I found this... ribbon, I guess you'd call it. It was black with crimson stripes through it. I could touch it; it felt cold... and well, dirty? Kinda like touching newt eyes. I remember pulling my hand back as soon as I touched it, and trying to regain consciousness. Something held me there." He shuddered, cringing with the memory.

Severus waited patiently. Being a skilled Legilimens, he was familiar with seeing into another mind. However, he could not imagine how being trapped in one's own mind would feel, the panic Harry must have experienced. Watching the younger man shiver and wrap his arms around himself in comfort, he thought it must have been horrifying.

Harry took a few moments, concentrating on his breathing and bring himself back to the present. His eyes clouded, his gaze tinged with blackness. Blinking rapidly, he hunched his shoulders, pulling the blanket up around him in an effort to get warm again. He was in the Infirmary, talking with Snape. Something similar happened just the night before. And then the pain started. His teeth chattered, and he bit his lower lip in an endeavour to stop them. Concerned, Severus cast a warming spell over the boy, debating whether or not to call Poppy. Harry cast him a look of thanks and sighed.

"Sorry about that," he said, ignoring Severus' searching visage. "Anyway. I decided to follow the ribbon, seeing as how I couldn't get out of my mind. It took me away from myself. Bit weird on that end, seeing yourself from the outside. So I pulled on the ribbon and it drew me through Hagrid's hut and away from Hogwarts. It began moving quickly, and I lost track of time and direction. When it stopped, I was inside some dank dark room, pacing." He watched as Severus' eyes grew large. He nodded in agreement. "I knew I wasn't in my body, so I had to be in someone else's and since _He's_ already got the connection to me..." he trailed off.

"It would only be logical that you were in the Dark Lord's mind," Severus concluded.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It was chaos. Thoughts, feelings, plans, they swirled in a mad whirlpool of darkness. I felt like I was drowning at first. Nothing was clear, it all moved past me so fast I couldn't grasp anything. I kept wondering why I was there? What did I need to see?" His eyes glazed over as he remembered how he had obtained the information so vital to the war and their future, and in the process, sealed his own doom. "I guess the potion was still working. It was like this pathway formed and I could see doors along it, marked clearly with these signs. One said '**Horcruxes.**' I figured, considering what I had learned from Slughorn's memory, going in there might help me." He shook his head rapidly. "It was in there I discovered the truth. How many there are, what they were, and how he had made them," Harry whispered the last part. His face became pale and he tugged on his hair again. "It was horrible... the murders he committed... how he did it..."

Severus swallowed heavily, the bile churning in his stomach once again. Harry was privy to knowledge only Voldemort knew. It might have been tempting to a lesser man, but the Potions Master understood the horror Harry now held in intimate detail, and he wouldn't wish it on another. It struck him suddenly, as his hand settled on top of the trembling one twisting in the blankets, that if he could, he would do anything to ease Harry's pain.

"There are seven," Harry repeated. "Two are already gone. The ring Dumbledore is wearing- it was one, wasn't it?"

Nodding, Severus frowned. "Yes, it was. Unfortunately, the curse had already begun to effect the Headmaster, by the time he called on me for assistance."

"He's going to die from it, won't he?" Harry asked, turning wise eyes to meet the black ones of his Professor. Severus simply nodded again. "I see," he replied. "The diary, the one in my second year, it was one too. That invasion he has planned, it's not just to kill Dumbledore. He's after the diadem of Ravenclaw. He's collecting them all together. I don't know why, exactly. I think he wants to keep them all safe. He's worried, after the ring's destruction, that others could be killed."

Severus absorbed the information, connecting the dots in a horrific picture of immortality and bloodshed. The hand beneath his turned cold, the fingers twitching repeatedly. Harry's teeth chattered again, making it obvious that the warming charm had worn off. His brow furrowed deeply. Something wasn't right.

"Draco's task to repair the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement isn't just to let them in, you know," Harry whispered through his clinched teeth, interrupting Severus' thoughts. "That room is where the diadem is hidden. I've seen it, when I... er... anyway... it's in there." He waved his hand over to his robe laying on the back of a chair. "I wrote everything down," he answered at Severus' inquiring look. "A list of all the Horcruxes, where they are now, and what he has planned for you and Draco. And the memory from Slughorn. I was supposed to give it to Dumbledore, but I...I just couldn't."

A terrible understanding washed over the Potions Master. "There is something you are not disclosing to me, isn't there? I will assure you that the Headmaster will get the memory, and the list if you wish, but you must tell me, Harry," he asserted.

Harry's fingers dug into his arms, holding his middle in an effort to stem the rising pain. He bit down on his tongue, tasting the coppery tang of his own blood. "D-d-don't look a-at it," he pleaded, his eyes wide with fear. Fear, Severus realized, that was for him. He turned towards the table, searching for a Calming Draught. "I-i-it's c-cursed," Harry stuttered out.

Black eyes flew up to meet green. "Cursed?"

Harry nodded, his head flopping around like a broken rag doll. Growing more alarmed with each passing movement, he finally grabbed the right potion, pressing it to Harry's bleeding lips. Harry drank it without a word.

"The memory, Harry? Is it cursed?" Severus questioned harshly, his tone belying his fear.

"He..." the younger man gasped out, his face taking on a sickly shade of grey. "He cursed it so that anyone who watched the true memory would suffer. And to talk about it would only double the spell. But..." he twitched to the side, his shaking growing more pronounced. "But... I had to tell someone, you see...Couldn't let him win, right? Guessss old Dumblesss isss right," he hissed. His eyes rolled up slightly, the whites showing. Severus reached out and held Harry's face within his potion stained hands. Harry blinked, his vision almost completely tunneled now. He had little time before the pain totally engulfed him. "The Prophecy- he told me, end of last year. Voldie... he's got to kill me, see? Cause I'm his Horcruxes." His voice slurring, he gulped in great breaths of air. "Then you can kill him right? Just... just get the others... and help Draco..."

"Poppy!" Severus cried out, frantic as Harry slumped boneless down into the mattress. Stunned, with a wide eyed expression, Severus gathered the now frigid boy into his arms, rubbing his hands up and down the cold greying skin, trying to infuse the body with warmth. A hideous snap sounded, and Harry screamed. Severus surmised that Harry's ribs had broken again. He summoned a pain potion and cast a warming charm around them. Tipping the vial into the boy's mouth, he massaged his throat, waiting until he felt the corded muscles work to swallow. Harry sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. His breathing shuddered through his blue lips, shallow and slow.

The motherly matron rushed through the enclosure, her face pinched with worry. She took in the pale face of the Professor, and the limp body in his grasp. "What happened, Severus?" she questioned, running her wand swiftly over Harry's prone form.

"He said the memory was cursed," Severus whispered, his expression empty.

"What memory? Severus, what is going on here?"

Shaking his head, he placed a hand over Harry's heart. It thumped slowly, barely registering against his palm. "What do your scans reveal, Poppy?"

"He is now in a stasis like coma. His bodily functions have slowed down considerably, much like he was when you brought him in last night. He's broken the same ribs again. If I was to garner a guess, I would say he was suffering the effects of the curse then as well. Do you know what he was hexed with?" Poppy asked.

"No," Severus replied. "I believe only the Dark Lord knows that, as it was he who placed the curse there in the first place."

Poppy gasped, then frowned. "In the first place? Severus you are not making much sense."

Laying Harry down flat on the bed again, he stood abruptly. Reaching into Harry's robe pocket, he withdrew the memory vial and a piece of parchment. "Keep him comfortable, Poppy. I'll be back as soon as I possibly can. If Draco comes by, please send him down to my office immediately," he commanded in a tone the even Poppy knew brooked no argument.

"Severus..." she called out to his retreating back. "Severus!"

He paused at the doors. "I don't know, Poppy. But I will, I assure you." With a swish of his robes, he was gone, leaving a baffled and worried matron, and a broken hero.

Poppy sank into the vacant chair, picking up the pale hand laying there and rubbed her thumb over his pulse. 'Now what?' she wondered.

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><p>Next Chapter: Draco and Severus have much to discuss. And Slytherin plans begin.<p> 


	18. Snakes in Unlocked Cages

**Disclaimer: See Last Week...  
><strong>

****A/N: Goodness me, have I told you all lately how much I adore my readers? Well I do. you are all so awesome. I've had a few mention the shortness of my chapters. I know... however, I am a very busy mom with three kids, all who have special needs. Hence, the time I have for myself is well... almost non-existent I am revamping some of the chapters as well. So the chapters are shorter, but that allows me the chance to update more often. I'm sorry if that bugs some people. I do hope you won't give up on me, or this story. We still have a fair ways to go, and I'm even thinking about a sequel. *grins*

That being said, I hope you enjoy this one. The next will be so much fun!

Warnings: Bonky Dumbles

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><p><strong>18- Snakes in Unlocked Cages<strong>

Draco had suffered restlessly through the remainder of his classes after leaving Harry at lunch. He put forth his usual Slytherin Princely mask, sneering when he should, insulting those he once viewed beneath him. Considering all he had learned over the past few days, he couldn't help but feel an emptiness in the actions. He went through the motions during lessons, although his mind had not left Harry's prone side once. His thoughts focused solely on the boy laying still in that white bed, his face pinched in a pain Draco wished he could soothe. His mind confused with worry, he found himself wandering down by the lake soon after his last class. The turmoil he felt only seemed to intensify with each step he took. It was sunset by the time he decided to head into dinner.

Dinner was already half over when he walked through the heavy open doors. Striding into the Great Hall, his eyes traveled over the tables, coming to rest on the space between the Weasel and the Know-it-All. Looking even more lost than that morning, they took to whispering amongst themselves, their faces revealing what their unheard words could not.

Sitting down at his own table, he moved his gaze up to the Head Table. A brief feeling of shock rippled throughout his body as he realized his Head of House was missing from his customary place. With a covert glance, he noted that Dumbledore seemed unfazed by whatever was brewing around him. His golden boy gone, and his Potions Master skipping the meal... Draco snorted. Merlin, but the old man was a fool. McGonagall, however, was the picture of stern worry, her eyes flickering from the Golden Duo to the twinkling Headmaster, then back again.

"Has Professor Snape been into dinner yet?" he calmly asked Blaise Zabini. The Italian seated next to him gave him a confused look, then followed his line of sight over to the Head Table.

"Briefly. He left in a bit of a hurry 'round twenty minutes ago," his companion revealed.

"And Potter?"

"Still missing. Although the rumors are entertaining."

Draco nodded, connecting the dots as they presented themselves to him. His eyes met the Transfiguration Professor's for a moment, the concern bright in hers.

'Amazing,' Draco thought. 'Things are falling to pieces and only one Professor notices?' He shook his head minutely. How could Harry deal with the lack of care over the years? No wonder the Gryffindor refused to put much stock in adult intervention. At least with Snape, the Slytherin students understood where their place was, and what they could expect from their Head of House. A sudden realization struck him. Did Harry ever have what they took for granted as a right owed them?

Shivering, and discovering his appetite had fled, he grabbed an apple, nodded to his housemates and swiftly left the room. He felt a fierce need to see Severus, to find out what his Professor had planned for him, and if he wasn't mistaken, for Harry too.

The trip down to the Potions Master's office was solitary. With the majority of the student body at dinner still, Draco knew the likelihood of running into anyone was next to nil. So, it was rather surprising to see the Headmaster coming his way just a few classrooms down from his destination. He thought the old man was still eating. This turn of events was strange, unanticipated and just a bit disconcerting. Draco's footsteps slowed down, and he turned his gaze to the floor in what he hoped was a thoughtful looking pose. Perhaps Dumbledore would simply bypass him.

Unfortunately, Luck was a fickle bint and Draco was one of her favorite play toys.

"Mr. Malfoy, how fortunate to see you here," Dumbledore called out, his tone belying the truth. Seeing that twice damned twinkle that made Draco's stomach turn and his blood freeze, he dipped his head in acknowledgment, all the more determined to make it past the old fool without many spoken words. "A moment of your time, please. It seems your esteemed Head of House left dinner rather early. You had Defense with him today, correct?"

Draco paused, lifting his head higher in a haughty motion. He sneered slightly, giving the man a once over. "Yes, Headmaster. Professor Snape was present for our class today. He attended lunch as well."

"And he was well, my boy?"

Flinching at the overtly annoying term, Draco nodded. "As well as he usually is, sir," he replied, managing to keep the suspicion out of his voice. The man was acting odd...er... than usual. He hedged along the wall, hoping for a quick get away.

"Good, good."

"Was there something you needed, sir?"

Dumbledore looked the younger man over with a smile, then shook his head. "No, nothing of import, my dear boy."

With a sigh, Draco tipped his head. "Well then sir, if you would excuse me, I have homework assignments to begin," he said as politely as he could.

Dumbledore gave him a searching look, then moved to the side. "Of course."

Feeling relieved, Draco began to walk passed the old man, holding his breath as he went.

"And Mr. Malfoy, I do hope you know that if you have anything you wish to discuss, my door is always open to you. Indeed to all my students, should they ever have the need," Dumbledore told him, his tone reeking of pity.

His hackles rising, Draco refused to turn around and give the man any sort of satisfaction. "Thank you, Professor," he replied, not meaning a single word of it. With his fists clinched tightly at his sides, he hurried on down the corridor, eager to make it to Snape's office without any more interruptions.

Knocking on the hard wood door only moments later, he suppressed the urge to rub his arms. Something about the encounter with the Headmaster rubbed him the wrong way. Impatiently, he tapped his foot, waiting to be granted entrance. After several minutes of no reply, he determined that Snape was, in fact, not in his office. Which left one place. The Infirmary.

Spinning on his nicely booted heels, Draco hurried back out of the dungeons, even more intent on talking to Severus. So focused on his destination, he did not see the dark shadow looming in front of him until his head had slammed into the firm chest. With a muttered curse and a hateful glare, he looked up, ready to rip the offender a new one. His eyes widened and he snapped his mouth shut swiftly.

"Sorry, Professor. I was distracted," he stated clearly. Professor Snape's eyebrow shot up and he nodded.

"Indeed," he replied.

Draco shook his head slightly. "In actuality, I was on my way to see you. You were not in your office, so I assumed you would be with our slippery lion." His eyes flicked around, taking in every shadow surrounding them. Severus' gaze did the same. The scuffle of a shoe had them moving as one towards Severus' office. With a whispered word, the door swung open, admitting both Professor and student.

Once inside, the door was locked and several wards placed around the entrance. Severus motioned to the chair before his desk, and Draco sank gracefully into it with a deep sigh. Taking the one next to the blond, the dark eyes roamed over his student's face, taking in the unusual pallor. "You seem disturbed, Draco."

Draco uncharacteristically ran a hand through his shimmering hair, reminding the Potions Master of the boy he had just left behind. "I had a run in with the Headmaster on my way to meet you, sir. He was acting rather strange."

"Do tell."

"He seemed concerned with your health and the reason you left dinner so early. I told him you appeared healthy and normal in class today," Draco summarized.

The tightening around Severus' lips and a slight frown told Draco that it made the stoic older man uncomfortable as well. "Was there anything else?"

Nodding, Draco tipped his head back against the top of the chair and closed his eyes. "He told me that his office was always open should I have anything I needed to discuss. It seemed rather cryptic to me. He has no subtlety, does he?"

Severus suppressed a smirk. "For all his smoke and mirrors, I'm afraid he is rather transparent in most instances. Did you tell him anything?"

"No," Draco snorted. "I know you work for him, and Merlin knows I need help getting out of my situation, but I can't say I trust him."

Thinking back to everything he had learned from Harry during their conversation, Severus wasn't sure he did either. To set a fragile young man on such a volatile path, knowing already the information he would obtain... Had Dumbledore truly felt that Harry wasn't intelligent enough to understand what he was gaining? Or was it simply that he didn't care? While the former spoke of a lack of faith, the latter was more serious. It screamed negligence, among other things. The weight of the world, not only their magical portion, but indeed the Muggle side as well, rested on the thin shoulders of a boy who had suffered more in his short life time than most men would in five.

And the Headmaster had no qualms of giving him even more. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Severus felt his body shudder. Draco gave his mentor a look of worry. "Professor?" he asked hesitantly. The man's eyes held a glazed look, further deepening Draco's anxiety. He waited with bated breath as Severus blinked repeatedly and then shook his black head. His tall frame folded as he sat forward, his features set in an intense expression.

"During our discussion, I need you to be completely honest with me Draco. Will you do that?"

Draco nodded rapidly, his eyes alight with a look of fearful honesty. He frowned, his mind puzzled over the Professor's behavior. He had a feeling things had taken a certain turn since last night. And somehow, he fit into it all.

"I will have to trust you." Severus leveled his stony gaze upon the blond. "Veritaserum is unfortunately still illegal to administer to children. However, I shall warn you, as your Professor, and as someone who has your best interest at heart, that it would behoove you to speak truthfully with me. More than just yourself depend on your words tonight."

Swallowing hard, Draco steeled his nerves, remembering despite everything, he was still a Malfoy, and Malfoys were bred with their emotions held tightly to their chest. "I understand, sir," he replied, pleased to hear that his voice was steady and cool.

Severus dipped his head in acknowledgment, pleased not only of Draco's words, but what was inflected therein. "Then let us begin."

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><p>Next Chapter: The plotting begins. How far will the two go to keep Draco and Harry safe?<p> 


	19. Burdened Hearts

**Disclaimer: I own 3 blu-rays and the 7 books, 4 scores... does that count?  
><strong>

A/N: Just a small note about this chapter. I know it might be confusing, and not much is really concrete. However, there is a purpose to that, and the plans they are making will come to light very soon. I just didn't want to give away the fun yet. Feel free to guess, though! I love hearing from my readers what they think might happen. :)**  
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><p><strong>19- Burdened Hearts<strong>

'Well, damn...' was the general consistence between the two Slytherins when all had been revealed.

"And he didn't know the curse?" Draco said lowly, as if just by talking about it, he would make matters worse.

Severus, his face drawn and tired, shook his inky head. "Unfortunately, even if he did have that information, he was unable to disclose it to me before he succumbed to unconsciousness again. He warned it was the viewing of the memory that activated the spell. Which make me wonder how he was able to see it."

"A Pensieve perhaps?"

"Possible, although, I am not sure where he would have obtained one. He does have a bad habit of sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," Severus replied with a slight sneer. He remembered all too well the events of last year. He overheard Harry mentioning to his friends that he felt incredibly sorry for that situation, and expressed his frustration over being trapped by Dumbledore's lack of information. It was no excuse, granted. Nevertheless, Severus felt he understood. Remus had even admitted, later in the summer, that Harry had given both he and Black a dressing down about their actions, or lack of. Apparently, he felt remorse over what his father had done, and been. It had opened Severus' mind to the smallest inkling of Harry's differences from his rash and abrasive father.

"Or the worse luck known to wizarding kind," Draco countered. "Could Slughorn have shown him somehow?"

Rubbing his temples, the Potions Master raised tired eyes to his student. "I just do not know, Draco. And attempting to surmise the hows of it all is getting us no where. The point of it is this: Harry is cursed with some spell the Dark Lord installed in the memory, in hopes of keeping his secrets from anyone idiotic enough to hunt them down. The fault, in this case for once, does not lie with Mr. Potter, but with the Headmaster, who already knew the information he had sent Harry after. We do not know what the curse is, or what it will do, nor do we know if the Dark Lord knows it has been activated. I would speculate he doesn't, as he would be too triumphant to not gloat over Harry's ailment. It does not appear the Headmaster is aware of the curse, either. Therefore we have a window of opportunity before us. And if what you have confided in me is accurate, we just might have a chance to save both of you in the process of fulfilling both our duties."

"Have you any idea whom the Dark Lord will be sending for the task that night?" Draco questioned quietly. Everything he learned had unsettled him. And the very idea of such a terrible curse placed upon the Golden Boy... he shivered with an unknown emotion.

"Harry indicated at least your Aunt Bellatrix and Greyback would be in attendance." He nodded at the wide eyed expression fixed on Draco's face and gave a grim smirk. "We have a week before the plan is to be carried out. And as I am still considered his spy here at Hogwarts, I will be called before then. He would not leave something this important to chance. Hence when the time comes, I will determine who we can expect, and who will work the best for our plans. The Polyjuice will be ready by tomorrow night, and as Harry is still laid up, his hair will be easy to obtain."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, all Malfoy masks destroyed in light of this newest uncovered fact. "Merlin, I never thought..." he trailed off, a lost look on his pinched features.

"You never thought that being in the Dark Lord's service could be so complex?" Severus finished for him.

Draco shook his head. "Not exactly. I guess I didn't realize how contorted everything could become."

Severus leveled an understanding look at him. "You are not the first," he admitted. Silence descended upon them, heavy with unspoken words. For several moments, they sat there, mulling over what they had learned, and what they planned to do with the knowledge. It was a heady feeling, knowing that if they could pull this off, they would be fooling not only Dumbledore, but Voldemort as well. It was hard to say which of the powerful wizards they were for concerned about.

"Do you think..." Draco's soft voice broke through the stillness. Severus glanced up. "Do you think Harry has ever been able to talk like you and I have? To anyone?" The question had plagued him ever since dinner.

"I did, for years now," Severus confided. "He puts on a good show, does he not? Fools everyone into thinking he is the Gryffindor of Gryffindors."

"Rather Slytherin, huh?" Draco gave a slight grin.

"Yes, rather Slytherin indeed," Severus agreed. "Perhaps we have underestimated our Mr. Potter after all."

"I think you're right, although you will never hear me tell him that." Draco paused thoughtfully. "Do you think he might awaken again?"

Severus thought for a minute. "It is possible, I suppose. The curse may be timed, so to speak. He might experience brief bouts of consciousness before falling to it again. I have asked Poppy to alert me if he does come to in the near future."

Yawning gracefully, Draco rose. "Would you let me know if he does?" he asked, his cheeks flaring with a pale rosy blush.

Severus caught it, and the look in those grey eyes. Mentally, he prayed to any god that would listen, hoping his student would not understand what he was feeling just yet. Teenage hormones was not something he wanted to deal with just yet. "If you wish."

Hand on the door now, Draco dipped his head in thanks. "Goodnight Professor."

"Goodnight, Draco. Be watchful," he admonished as the blond opened the door quietly and left the room. Sinking back into his chair, he turned his face to the fire, his eyes distance, thinking of black haired boys and the misconceptions a foolish man can make. They were all fools, he realized. Summoning a glass of bourbon to his hand, he raised it in a toast. "Well played, Harry. Well played."

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><p>In the silent Infirmary enclosure, where a comatose Harry lay, Draco, sat by his bedside. He too bowed his head in acknowledgment, admitting, despite it all, the Gryffindor had out Slytherined them all. It was tragic, however, that it should be to the determent of himself. "No more, Harry," Draco vowed. "You're not alone in this any more." the hand intertwined with his squeezed in response. It wasn't much, but it gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, they would come out of all this alive... and whole again.<p>

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><p>Next Chapter: What is going on in Harry's mind while plans are being made?<p> 


	20. Repertoire of Illusions

**Disclaimer: Give me Harry Potter and maybe my cold will go away... Give me Harry Potter, and maybe the snow will melt and we might actually have spring... Give me Harry Potter and... um... yeah I've got nothing.**

AN: 75F degree weather one day, 30 degree the next gives me... a head cold. So I wanted to have this posted earlier, but didn't have the brain power to do anything more than drink tea and watch _Pete's Dragon_ with my kids. Thanks again for the beautiful reviews. Seriously, you lovelies are the very best.

Warnings: Disturbing imagery with mentions of blood, violence and gore. Ermm... character deaths- kind of. Beginnings of Draco's understanding his feelings.

_*thoughts and conversations within the dreamscape of Harry's mind.*_

I need a name for the curse Harry is under. Suggestions please? Without giving too much plot away... it takes the cursed ones greatest fears and turns it into something they find joy in.

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><p><strong>20-Repertoire of Illusions<strong>

_As far as nightmares go, this isn't so bad. _

Harry had been trapped in more than his fair share of the nighttime plagues from the moment he closed his eyes on that fateful October night. He knew now that the hazy pictures he saw, the screams of _"No, not Harry! Take me instead!" _the blindingly bright green light and sinister laughing was not a dream, but a horrible memory. As a child, however, it was nothing more than something his overly traumatize brain came up with. After all, he was used to living a life that was less than glamorous. And as a freak, he was well aware of the things he was not allowed like normal people. Hence, good dreams and a restful sleep were forbidden, even by his own weary mind. Punishment, he supposed, for being what he was. _Freaks doesn't have good dreams, for they are not good, _became the mantra of his childhood.

As the years drifted by him, the mantra became longer, the nightmares increased. After receiving his Hogwarts letter, they featured flying motorbikes, old men and huge giant-like people who took him and gave him to the Dursleys'. His relatives would have thought him bonkers, Uncle Vernon said something like that when he'd so much as hinted at his dreams. He learned to not mention such things, with a sharp cuff to the head from Uncle and a sneer from his horse faced Aunt. And if he woke up some nights dripping in sweat and hands stuffed over his heaving mouth, he knew not to make a sound, never give an indication of what he endured.

First through third years gave him glimpses of burning faces, huge snakes, Dementors and snarling werewolves. Somewhere in all of that, Snape too had become prominent in the dreams, looking down his crooked nose at Harry, calling all his faults and shortcomings to the attention of the Great Hall, where Harry would stand, naked and humiliated.

However, they were nothing in comparison to what he began to experience the beginning of his fourth year summer, when he somewhat witnessed first hand what _Avada Kedavra_ accomplishes. It was terrifying, seeing that green light hiss through the air and strike the old Muggle caretaker. His vacant stare reminded Harry of his mother's own green eyes, open and frozen in terror. From that moment on, Harry knew what true horror was. And he shuddered during his waking hours as the scenes that played through his sleeping brain came crashing down upon him.

How everyone around him missed the cracks, and then hideously wide fractures in the Gryffindor's mask was hard to comprehend. Yet no one noticed, and so no one cared. Until his breakdown atop the Astronomy Tower. Little did Draco or Severus realize just how far the curse Harry was enduring would push him further from reality each time its wave broke over him.

_Yes, not too bad at all._

Before him in a well lit room, stood a woman with brilliant red hair. She looked out the large french windows, her face softened with a smile and her eyes watching the scene playing out before her.

_Mum_, he'd hear himself whisper, so low that he was sure he wouldn't disturb her. Somehow, she always heard and turned those green eyes so like his own to him. Her beautiful lips would break into a smile and she would hold out her hand in welcome.

_Harry,_ she called joyously, beckoning him to her side, where he would go without hesitation. Her hand, small like his, yet soft without the callouses his palms possessed, would hold his tightly. There they would stand beside each other, gazing out the windows without a single word between them. Blackness, deep as the darkest night, filled the land before them, splashed with flashes of bright colors and red rivers of spilled life. The sky shadowed from the sun, lit only by the harsh yellows and oranges of raging fires spreading across the landscape. Howls of pain and anger sang throughout the air, and yet neither person sought to cover their ears. No, to them it was like music, pure and sweet. They watched, mesmerized as one after another, bodies fell to the earth, struck down by the most severe of curses.

_Look!_ His mum would laugh, pointing as Remus took a cutting curse to the neck, pushing Tonks out of the way. His blood gushed from his wounds staining the ground beneath him. Tonks sank to her knees, crying out in her sorrow, oblivious to the guillotine hex rushing her way. As her head fell beside her husband, her eyes wide with surprise, tears still glistening on her cheeks, Harry would find himself applauding and thinking _Good show._

Nagani swallowed up the twins, while Ron and Hermione fell at the hand of Bellatrix. Severus, and now Draco dueled Lucius, only to find themselves bound and dropped before Voldemort, who simply turned them over to Greyback and the rouge werewolves, who ripped the two to pieces and feasted in blood.

Friend and ally, comrade and fellow student each eventually bowed to the hands of ruthless Death Eaters. And in the end, Voldemort stood triumphant, smiling the same smile he saw in his memories from his fifth year possession.

Throughout it all Harry stood, protected and gleefully holding on to his mother's hand, simply content to watch the bloodbath play out before him. Turning away from the window, he found himself pulled into Lily's arms, her fingers carding through his curls. _And so falls our future, Harry, my love. Will you find peace now? There is nothing left to hold you here. Everyone you loved is gone. You couldn't help them, you didn't want to. After all, what have they ever done for you? _She whispered into his ear as he clutched the fabric of her shirt tightly in white knuckled hands.

Yes... yes this was what he wanted. Wasn't it? Freedom from the responsibilities, freedom from the lies. Free from the cage he was kept in, taken out and paraded around as the hope of the Light, the bane of the Dark. It could all be his, something whispered in his mind. All he had to do was give up.

Give up.

_Give up._

**_Give up._**

The words were like a shock to his addled brain, freezing the present state of affairs and casting the whole situation in unpleasant and clear relief. His mother's eyes, green when he began his dream, were now red, the dark color of dried blood- _Voldemort's eyes. _ The grin that stretched across her lovely features, sharp with maliciousness. There was a glint of insane surety shining in her expression and Harry felt his body recoil in horror.

The curse. Now he understood the purpose of the trap Tom had set on his memories. The terrifying results it procured was astonishing, and brilliant in some forms. And Harry knew in that moment he didn't stand a chance. His luck had run out. As his consciousness faded to black, he couldn't help the scream that tore from his throat, the cry of pure anguish ripping his heart in two. Succumbing to the nightmares ravishing his body and mind, he thrashed, fighting against the demons trying to hold him down. He pleaded for help, begging anyone who might listen to free him from the hell he had unwittingly locked himself into.

Cool hands touched him and he clung to the feelings suddenly flowing through him.

_"Hush. We're here now, Harry. And we are not leaving you any time soon."_

_"Rest. You will be safe, Harry. Just let go."_

With a sigh, he did exactly what the voices said, letting go of his fear and slipping into the cool confines of true sleep.

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><p>When Harry finally calmed down, and they were assured that he was merely sleeping again, Severus and Draco gave Poppy a hard look.<p>

"What the hell was that?" Draco croaked, his throat tight with the horror he had just witnessed. Harry's fingers were covered in blood, long wounds lining his pale cheeks as he had tried to scratch his own eyes out. His throat held similar marks. Draco wiped a damp cloth across Harry's drenched brow, smoothing back the wet black curls and shivering at the irritated scar marring the otherwise pristine forehead. His hand shook noticeably.

Severus reached out his hand, offering a Calming Draught to the shaken younger man. Draco took it without another word and downed it, nodding his head in thanks. Tucking the multitude of blankets around the still grey body of the boy he wished to know better, he once again claimed the hand he was beginning to think of as his. His face flushed and he ducked it down quickly.

"Poppy," Severus began softly, just as shook up as his companions. He had felt something akin to panic when the matron firecalled his quarters with the plea to help Harry whom seemed trapped in some sort of fit. In turn he alerted Draco, and the two swiftly made their way to Harry's side. Nothing could quite prepared the two Slytherins for what they saw.

The motherly woman shook her head with a tired sigh. "I can't say for sure, Severus. He was under the stasis spell from the time you left here until about an hour ago. At first it seemed like a simple dream," she paused, seeing the raised eyebrow from Severus. "Well, simple for him," she amended. "However, it soon became apparent it was more. His skin began to blue, and his temperature plummeted, like the blood in his body was slowly freezing. I watched it progress until it reached his scar, before the thing split open, as it does when he has a vision."

Severus nodded, having witnessed Harry in such a fit. It was grotesque and nauseating to see.

"It was shortly thereafter he began to scream and claw at his throat and eyes. I called for you then. I didn't know what to do, Severus." Her voice shook with frustration and sorrow.

Draco snarled. "You're the bloody medi-nurse here, aren't you? Couldn't you have given him a potion, something to at least bring his temperature up?" he bit out. His sliver eyes flashed with a look of hurt and betrayal.

Poppy, exhausted from the nights events, sank into a chair Severus pulled up for her. She knew she should be insulted, or at least irritated by the young man's challenge. But looking at the droop of his shoulders and the way he tightly held Harry's hand, she couldn't find it in her to snap back. "Draco, we don't know what the curse is, if you will recall."

Draco flushed, immediately understanding. "And you don't know what could react with it, right?"

Nodding, Poppy cast a glance over to the silent Severus. "Have you thought of a way to find out what it is?"

Severus bowed his head, pressing his hands over his eyes in a strange show of tiredness. "Not at this time. Harry told me that it was possible the curse was activated by viewing the memory. However, I am not sure if that would apply to using _Legilimency,_ or if I would even be able to extract the essence of the curse."

Draco's expression was one of confusion. "Extracting the essence of the curse? Is that possible?"

"In some cases, yes," Severus replied. "It is a rather delicate procedure, and one not without extreme risks. Especially considering the possibility that the curse could be effecting Harry's mind, it isn't unfathomable that doing so might shred his mindscape."

"But if we don't do anything..." Draco swallowed heavily, thinking of the prospects presented before them, the sheer hopelessness they might be facing. His eyes glued to the feverish face of Harry's, he didn't see the knowing looks the adults in the room gave each other.

"We will find a way, Draco," Severus said, his tone a promise of assurance.

_We have to, _was left unsaid.


	21. Questionable Questions

**Disclaimer: See previous chapters**

****A/N: Okay, I have this gnarly head ache, have had it for three days now, so if this chapter seems a bit wonky, I apologize. Um.. enjoy, and thanks for all the support. You lovelies are amazing. Really looking forward to next chapter *grins* There is roughly 5- 6 chapters remaining on Perfect World. But there will be a sequel. I'm not ready to let go of our boys just yet.

Warnings: None, really. Hermione being Hermione. McGonagall growing a bit of a backbone...

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><p><strong>21- Questionable Questions<strong>

Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' resident Know-it-All, had a reputation for being rather nosy. It wasn't her fault, exactly. Being a witch born into a Muggle household, and the daughter of two dentists, she was raised to try her best, to excel in whatever task she undertook, to make her parents proud. While in primary school, she cultivated her perfectionist personality, endeavoring to stick out in a pack of less intelligent beings. This need for perfection only intensified when it was discovered she had magical powers. Unfortunately, her parents only encouraged her habitual flawless necessity. It became as air to her. After reaching Hogwarts, she was thrust into a world where suddenly, she was no longer the best at everything, nor did she know it all. Harsh reality struck her when she realized that spouting off facts did not endear her to her peers, but had the opposite effect. Left as an outcast in a strange and dangerous world, she thought she would be left adrift for the duration of her Hogwarts career.

Until the night a troll wandered into the girls lavatory and attempted to kill her. Of course, had she not taken to heart the cruel words spoken by a red-headed prat, she might have not been there in the first place. Then again, she wouldn't have really met Harry Potter, and later became friends with him and said red hair prat. Taken from her dark and lonely world, she was handed the golden opportunity of helping the Wizarding World's Savior. Once again she was useful and her book smarts helped Harry make it through many a terrible scrape.

This year, however, she found herself helpless. Harry's only 'family' had died, leaving him to withdraw further away from her. Ron was off chasing skirts, oblivious to his friend's depression and as of late, strange obsession with the blond Malfoy heir and his Head of House. And for the life of her, Hermione could not figure out what to do about it all. Coupled with the untimely, and worrisome disappearance of Harry, Ms. Granger was a bushy haired mess.

Madame Pomfrey, she knew, was hiding something, and she was pretty sure it had to do with the absent Gryffindor. The deflection of her questions and the almost mama bear attitude the matron had displayed only served to add to Hermione's suspicions. Knowing she would not get any information from Poppy, she followed her suggestions and went to her Head of House.

To her dismay, Professor McGonagall knew next to nothing about Harry's current location, or condition. The old cat was just as surprised, and more than a little disturbed when Hermione had asked her, although most would not know it. There was a tightening around her mouth and a widening of her eyes that gave her away.

"When was the last time you saw or heard from Mr. Potter?" the Professor asked sternly.

"He played chess with Ron two nights ago in the Common Room. He was gone the next morning. I've searched everywhere I can think of, Professor. Even the Infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was rather adamant that we talk to you and the other Professors," she confided.

"Did she give an indication where she thought Mr. Potter might be?"

Hermione shook her head quietly. "No, although, she seemed to want us to leave. But that could be because of Ron. He was being horribly loud."

Minerva resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Mr Weasley's behavior lately was bordering on erratic. More than one dispute had broken out within the halls and classrooms due to Ronald's rude and down right troublesome behavior. She could not make heads or tails of it. Now, the added distress of Harry's vanishing act, without the confirmation from the Headmaster that he was, or wasn't aware of it, made for one anxious cat. She looked at the worried girl before her, twisting her hands and glancing around the office with wide, troubled eyes. With a sigh, she stood and gestured to the door.

"I will speak to the Headmaster about this. It is very likely that your concerns are unfounded, and Mr. Potter is simply taking a respite. Until I have an answer for you, however, I would suggest keeping your distance from Mr. Weasley for the time being, and not mentioning this to anyone. There is no need to raise alarm before we know something," she replied, narrowing her eyes.

Hermione nodded, seeing the reasonableness of her Professor's request. Although, it struck her as odd that McGonagall would mention Ron. His distasteful words and actions the day before had served to disenchant her her hand on the door, she paused for a moment. "Professor, do you think Harry is alright?" she asked, her tone quiet with nervousness she could not understand.

Minerva was silent as a minute or two passed. Then drudging up a slight smile she did not feel, she dipped her head. "Mr. Potter always pulls through, as you well know. I'm sure this will be no different. He will return to you soon, and all shall be well once again."

Wanting to cling to he comforting words, Hermione gave a soft smile and walked out of the room. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The Professors would know what to do, and they would take care of it. Conveniently, she forgot the multitude of times this had not been the case when it came to Harry.

Minerva, however, did not. The situation, she knew, was much dire than she had let on. Students did not just disappear without there being a reason. This was most certainly true for Harry. Whatever it was going on, it wasn't something simple. A frown etched into her brow as she thought of her next course of action. Poppy was protecting Harry, she was sure. The questions remained from who or what? And who else knew?

As Harry's Head of House, she should have been informed immediately if he had been detained in the Infirmary. Although, she reflected, she was usually the last one to know when something had happened to the small Gryffindor. Again, she cursed Dumbledore's neglectful ways. The blatant disregard for the rules where he was concerned, along with his willingness to allow Harry to take on situations that no child should would only serve to hurt the boy in the long run. Merlin knew, Harry was walking a fine line lately. This year, especially, she noticed changes in his patterns, his behavior, even his magic. And most of them were not what she would call good. His withdrawal from his friends and usual actives, while not apparent to most, stood in stark contrast to the rash boy she thought she knew.

Quiddich, before his ban, was the highlight of Harry's free time. Now, as she recalled the last practice she observed, it seemed like he was merely going through the motions, focusing more on the strategic played and movements verses the simply thrill of the game. His eyes, once bright with delight, were dark and tired, his face drawn in to a frown more often than not. Perhaps, she had expected something else from hm this year, a return of the young and happy boy she had taught the past six years. This young man was jaded, a hardened individual, much like Severus was at his age.

With a jolt of understanding, she strode swiftly toward the door. Why she had not seen it before was a mystery to her. But now that she had some idea... she wasn't about to let it go. Even if Severus didn't have the answers she sought, she had no doubt he too would have seen the changes in Harry. He may not like the boy, might despise James Potter's son, but he could recognize clues about Harry's distancing himself that most would miss.

For once, she would do as she should have during the past few years. She would protect her lion cub- Dumbledore and his blind eyes be damned. She paused on her way to to dungeons, a shiver flowing throughout her body.

The tide was changing... and with it, everything they thought they knew.


	22. When the Lioness Comes

**Disclaimer: I never have, nor will I ever own Harry Potter *sobs* Can we not talk about it?  
><strong>

A/N: I offer my sincerest apologizes for the lateness of this chapter. RL took over again, and being a busy bee, and a busy mom... that comes first.

This chapter took on a direction I didn't expect. A reader told me a bit of info Rowling had released and it found it's way into this plot. meh... I guess technically you could call it Severitus, although Severus will not be adopting Harry or anything like that... you'll just have to wait and see what I mean. I do hope you enjoy. We are getting down toward the end- only about 6 chapters left. No flames please.

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><p><strong>22- When the Lioness Comes<strong>

It took quite a bit to rattle Severus Snape. Considering the horrors he had witnessed and partaken in during his life, he could safely say that there wasn't much that could surprise him anymore. However, over the past few days, he was finding he experienced said emotion more often than in his previous 36 years. The greatest surprise came in that it was a Potter who had elicited such a response. True, Potter senior had a habit of bringing out his worse emotions, and up until two nights ago, Severus could say the same about the younger.

Now, as he faced Harry's irate Head of House, he reflected the boy brought out an assortment of emotions from many who knew him. Somehow, looking at the flashing eyes of Minerva McGonagall, he felt, for the first time, a kindred tie to one of his colleagues.

"I am to assume that you are here for a reason, Minerva," he said stiffly as she stood in his office doorway. The look she gave him had cowed many a child, himself included during his student days.

Her mouth pinched into a sever line, the older Professor narrowed her eyes. "Indeed I am, Severus. It's about Mr. Potter."

Severus' own expression darkened, in keeping with his usual response at mention of Harry's name."I see. And what trouble has our resident hero gotten himself into?"

Had Minerva not known her younger colleague so well, she might have missed the slightest inflection in his tone. Her instincts told her that he knew something of the current situation, and that she was right to seek him out. "It appears Harry has vanished. Neither his friends nor his dorm mates have seen him since two nights prior."

With a raised brow, Severus stepped out-of-the-way and motioned for her to follow him. Minerva did so, curious about the silence the Potions Master was keeping. Once they were settled with a cup of tea in the confines of his office, Severus checked his wards and leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "Why trouble me with this business, Minerva? Why not talk to the Headmaster about his Golden Boy's whereabouts?"

It did not go unnoticed that Severus spoke Dumbledore's title instead of his name as was usually his habit. Adding that to her earlier observations and the pose Severus had adopted left the old cat with little doubt. Something was afoot, and somehow it concerned not only Harry, but Severus and unless she missed her guess- Dumbledore as well. She was now faced with the realization that depending on how this conversation progressed, she could be getting into something very complicated. A pang twinged in her heart. Neither the dark haired man before her, or the missing young man had an easy life. They tended to be the butt of Fate's eternal jokes. It saddened her as a Professor, and as a friend.

"Considering the length of time Harry has been absent, if Albus has not called it into question yet, he either knows something and is unwilling to divulge it, or..." she paused, staring slightly off to the side. Or what? The very idea that the old wizard might not be concerned with Harry's well being was a horrible thing to think. And yet... Minerva found she could not simply dismiss it.

"Or the Headmaster is unconcerned," Severus finished, seeing the look of panic flash though those sharp eyes. Minerva turned her head, meeting the black eyes of the younger man. He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. "There are things that Dumbledore has seen fit to keep from most of us. And unfortunately, someone has to pay the price for his negligence."

"Harry," Minerva whispered.

"Indeed."

"Where is he?" she asked, trepidation filling the pit of her stomach.

"He is currently housed in a room at the Infirmary where Poppy is keeping a hawk's eye on him." Severus said in a quiet, but matter of fact tone.

"Should I ask how it is that you know of this?"

A sneer marred the stoic man's face. "If you implying that I am at fault somehow in this, you are mistaken."

"Then I have to ask," Minerva replied with a steel edge in her voice. "What interest is it to you where or how Harry is?"

Silence reigned for a moment as Severus' dark gaze clashed with Minerva's. He took the time to weight out his options, the pros and cons of confiding in his old Professor. It all came down to what would be in Harry's best interest, and if the plan he and Draco had discussed was going to come to fruition, they would need support. However, he knew how staunchly Minerva had backed the Headmaster in the past. He could be taking a gamble that might blow up in his face, further endangering his charges. He hoped the expression of dawning realization he had seen in her gaze could mean she was beginning to see the light.

With a heavy sigh, Severus got up and headed to his liquor cabinet. Pulling a bottle of Gin from his shelves he held it up and looked his visitor. She merely inclined her head and sat quietly observing the man. Handing her a tumbler, Severus retook his seat and took a sip of his drink. "You must understand that what is said in this room will not go any further. There are many things as stake here, many lives, Harry's included."

Minerva, unnerved by the use of Harry's given name coming from Severus lips, simply nodded, her eyes calculating behind her glasses.

"A few nights ago, Mr. Potter was found by Mr. Malfoy atop the Astromony tower floor. He was ill and barely coherent at that time. Over the course of the next few hours, Poppy worked tirelessly on him, stabilizing his condition, or at least we thought at the time. It became apparent last night that this was not the case. He relapsed, but spoke of certain things that leads us to believe he is under the influence of a curse that is unknown to all except one. Because of this, we are currently at a crossroads, as we know neither what the name of the curse is, nor to what extent the damage it will cause to Harry throughout its duration. For now, Harry is contained in a sleeping coma, but the curse as shown it can break through even that," Severus explained and sat back in his seat, tipping his head back with a sigh.

"That's not all, is it?"

"No," he shook his head, his hair swishing against the back of the chair. "It is merely the tip of the iceberg."

"And this relates to Albus in what way?"

"Albus, as you may have surmised, is aware that Harry is incapacitated, but ignorant of the curse yet. Poppy thought it not prudent, and I agree. The headmaster has shown lately a certain lack of concern about Harry's welfare, including the events that led up to the situation we are now in. When I spoke to him last of Harry's illness, he was less interested with that, and more preoccupied with how Harry would fulfill the tasks Albus has set out for him to do before the year is out."

"Do you know what the tasks involve?" Minerva asked, her sharp mind calculating all she had observed about the Gryffindor over the past year. The conclusions were not to her liking.

"Mr. Potter saw fit to disclose certain bits of information to me the last time he was awake," came the cryptic reply.

"And you have a plan worked out," she observed, knowing the mind before her was first and foremost a plotter.

He leveled his black eyes on hers, narrowed and searching. "There are certain events in play that will soon come to a head. In that time, things will happen, actions taken that many of our allies will not understand. I will tell you that what goes on is in the best interest of both Harry and others involved. I ask you trust that and keep an open mind about the outcomes. I am willing to give you my trust however, on one condition, and you know as well as I that I do not make that statement lightly. If I were to reveal to you what we have planned, would you keep it in confidence until the appropriate time?"

A chill swept over her, and she had to pause. What he was suggesting... could be potentially disastrous she reckoned, and she wasn't even aware of the details just yet. "What you are asking isn't something I would normally approve of, is it?"

Severus remained silent, merely keeping his eyes on her. She sighed and removed her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose as she thought it over. "If I agree, can you guarantee the safely of Mr. Potter and those involved?"

"You know just as I do that I cannot promise such a thing. Nevertheless, I can assure you that I will do my best to ensure he is well taken care of. As for the others, that is out of my hands," he replied, rolling his now empty glass around in his hands.

"Will you tell me more?"

"Not much. Do you know anything of Hocruxes?"

"Of course, although that information is thought to be nothing but a fairy tale. There is nothing substantial to suggest it is possible," she replied, her curiosity peaked.

"I assure you, Minerva, they are real, and there are a few in our world already."

Minerva gasped and sat back with a heavy thump. "But... who would be so foolish... so monstrous to create such a thing?" she asked, true horror trembling in her voice.

"Can you truly think of no one?" Severus inquired quietly.

"He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? He wouldn't dare. It would rip his soul... it's the blackest of black magic."

"It is, and has been accomplished not once, but at least seven times that we know of by the Dark Lord. Harry confirmed it."

"And how would Harry know of something like that?" she questioned, horrified.

"Albus," Severus simply answered. "One of the tasks he set for Harry this year was to find out about the Dark Lord's horcruxes. In order to do this, Harry had to persuade one of his Professors into revealing a memory long buried. The result... has been to Harry detriment."

"Who in their right mind would tell someone this information?" she spoke thoughtfully, her logical mind turning over each possibility. Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her. "Horace. He knew, didn't he?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, he did, and was provoked years ago by the Dark Lord into disclosing exactly how to go about making one. He then tampered with his own memory in order to hide his involvement, and stifle his guilt."

"Harry was able to get Horace to tell him."

"No, he gave him the unaltered memory, not knowing there was a curse attached to said memory."

"So Harry watched it..."

"He did. It had a side effect, however, that enabled Harry to spend sometime in the Dark Lord's memories. He was able to retrieve the location and housing of each horcrux, before succumbing to his illness," he replied, pulling the wrinkled piece of parchment from his pocket. With a steady hand, he gave it to Minerva who quickly looked it over.

"There are only six listed here," she said after perusing the note again.

"There is."

"Then the last one..."

"Is Harry."

"Oh my."

Silence reigned over them after that for several moments. Each thinking about what had been discussed and what it could mean not only for them, but for their very world.

"You're planning on taking him away, aren't you?" Minerva finally asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Severus only spoken of his idea with Draco, so he was surprised how quickly Minerva came to that conclusion. Then again, the old cat was always a smart one. He looked at her silently for a moment, then rose and went to his book shelf. From there he pulled down an old and battered book, opened it and extracted a piece of paper. It was old and weathered, its edges frayed. He clutched it tightly in his hand for a minute, gazing down at his fist with a frown.

"You know Lily was my friend up until our sixth year," he began quietly.

"Yes, you two were as thick as thieves, despite the house rivalries and Potter and his friends interjections. It was a rare, but wonderful thing to see."

Severus turned his head to the fire and nodded. "I made a grave mistake then, said something I shouldn't have out of anger. We were separated then, and soon after she took up with Potter, Black and their ilk." He strode over to her chair then, and held out the precious paper. "I thought she would never forgive me. I was looking through my older books the other day, searching for a way to add an adaptation to a potion, when this fell out of one of them."

Gingerly, Minerva took the paper, her hands shaking like they hadn't when she received the horcrux list. She held it gently in her hands and stared at it. "Are you sure you want to share this with me, Severus?"

He nodded. "You need proof I will do my best to help and save Harry, do you not?"

Without another word, Minerva opened it, and began to read the words of a dead woman. When finished, she raised her head, tears in her eyes. "She must have put a reveal spell on this before she went into hiding at Godric's Hollow."

"I can't think of any other time. I was among the Death Eaters at that time, and we didn't see each other but in passing at the Alleys. How she could have known I would turn from my chosen path, I haven't been able to fathom."

"She timed it so that you would see it when it was needed. Does Harry know?"

"No. I do not think this is the time to tell him. You know as well as I that he was devastated by that mutt Black's death. To tell him of what he's lost, the sibling Lily was carrying and what my role in his life could have been... There will be time later."

Severus accepted the parchment back and held it in his lap as he reclaimed his seat. "However, your assumptions are correct. At the end of the year, when the events are completed, he will be leaving with me. Draco Malfoy will as well, although he already knows of this."

"You said he found Harry."

"He did. Draco is just as trapped as Harry is, and both those boys have no one to look after what is in their best interest. I know I haven't acted in Harry's before, I've been cruel and petty to him. Had I known about Lily's request before this, I cannot in all honesty say I would have changed my actions. There was no love lost between us. Nor can I say there was much between Harry and Draco as well. However, the situations we have went through over the past few days changes things" Severus admitted without the usual bite in his tone.

Minerva's gaze roamed over his posture before nodding. "Mr Malfoy's as well?"

"He first and foremost. I was willing to assume the worse about Harry when I found the two of them. Draco stepped forward and assured me it wasn't what I thought, that there was something truly wrong with Harry. Had he not... the consequences could have been far more disastrous."

"Poppy is unable to determine the curse, you said. Has she consulted with anyone else on this matter?" Minerva asked, the wheels in her head turning.

"We thought it best not to alert many to Harry's ailment. She has requested that not even his... friends be told at this point in time," he sneered out, his thin lips turned up in a grim smirk. Somehow it brought him great satisfaction knowing the other two halves of the trio were not permitted to be underfoot. He may have softened his feelings towards Harry, but his friends were still intolerable.

"I'd like to see him. I might be of some use," his colleague replied, a determined tone in her voice. Had it been anyone else, Severus might have balked. After all she was supposed to be renown for her transfiguration skills, not her healing. Nevertheless, he nodded, knowing no one was ever what they seemed on the surface. Harry and Draco had proven that time and again over the past few days.

"I believe Poppy would allow it," he began, only to hear a loud chime ring out. He looked to the unusual clock on the fireplace mantle and stood hastily. "It appears that it will be sooner than later."

Minerva glanced at the clock, noting it was a family piece, not unlike the one the Weasleys had in their house. On the face, Severus, Harry and Draco's faces could be seen, a sure testament to the strange, and yet very real changes happening around her. The problem was clear now, however. Harry's hand was pointed firmly on _'mortal peril.'_

"The curse is manifesting itself again," Severus explained, answering her silent question. Not needing another word, the two quickly vacated Severus' office, making their way silently towards the Infirmary. Neither were prepared for what they were about to see.


	23. The Nature of the Curse

**Disclaimer- Same as always.  
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A/N- So real life has been so crazy I barely feel like I have time to breathe, much less write. When I do have free time, I'm so tired, I end up falling asleep more often than not. I do apologize, but I'm sure most of you know how that goes. No- this and Foolish Games is NOT abandoned. It just take time for me to get things in line where I can write fluently. **  
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I do like this chapter- has a tiny bit of Drarry moments, and a reveal. Thanks goes to Shred of Sanity who came up with the name of the curse. I would be lost without the support and ideas. The meaning behind it will be revealed in the next chapter. As always, enjoy.

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><p><strong>23- The Nature of the Curse<strong>

Seeing a body bend in such a dangerous direction was not what something Minerva ever wanted to see. She thought she had seen plenty of horrible sights during the first war, but this... this was terrifying. Harry Potter's body was contorted in such a way, he looks like something from a freak show. His legs were twisted out to the side, his arms held tightly to his sides by Draco and Poppy, although she could see that was a losing battle. Already the two had worked up a sweat, and their grips were slipping. It wasn't hard to see why it was a necessary maneuver. Deep scratches line Harry's once pristine cheeks, trails of blood slipping down his skin and pooling hideously beneath his head.

His mouth was frozen in a silent scream, his eyes wide and bulging. He gasped in air rapidly, the muscles in his neck corded and straining against his skin. He turned his head back and forth so quickly, no one was sure how he hadn't snapped it yet.

"Why haven't you used a restraining spell on him?" Minerva asked Poppy as she approached the bed cautiously. Harry gave no indication he knew she, or anyone else was there.

"We have held off on using magic, as we are not sure how it will interact with the curse," Severus explained, taking Poppy's place and clutching Harry's thin, pale hand tightly. He gave a Draco a quick and searching look. "When did you arrive?" he asked his student.

Draco shook his head. "I haven't left since after I finished classes today."

"Stubborn young man," Poppy interjected, a hint of fondness in her voice. "I tried to get him to at least go to dinner, but he would have none of it. Oddly enough, some food appeared here just in time for dinner."

Severus gave him a speculative look, then nodded in the direction of his charge. Draco, understanding the unspoken question, nodded slowly, his eyes tired and his face showing the strain of prolonged distress from being in their situation.

For a while now, both Slytherins had suspected Harry had a helper in the castle, an elf who was keeping track of Draco's movements, and ensuring Harry wasn't caught when he was out and about after curfew. The small show of kindness only strengthen their opinions.

A strangled scream ripped through the room and Harry convulsed once... twice, before collapsing boneless back onto the bed. Both Draco and Severus held on a while longer, feeling the dangerously rapid pulse beating underneath the Gryffindor's frail skin.

"He can't go through much more of this," Draco murmured. "His body is going to give out."

No one said anything for a few moments after, each faced with the stark reality that they were watching Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, die in front of their eyes, bit by bit. It was a stunning thought and settled around them in a heavy, hot rush of air.

"This is the curse?" Minerva asked, slowly lifting her hand and placing it gently on Harry's head. She snatched it back quickly, casting a frantic look at the rest of her companions. "His skin is freezing," she gasped.

Draco and Severus nodded, readjusting their grips on his arms. Draco's hand had slipped down to tangle with those icy fingers, now blue tinged. Severus adjusted his hand to grip Harry's shoulder, showing no indication that the dropping body temperature bothered him.

"The fit... it seems to be a side effect somehow. This, though, is the nature of the curse. We haven't any idea what is going through Harry's mind when he goes into the fits, but it is traumatic enough he feels the need to physically harm himself," Poppy explained, adjusting the blankets around Harry's cooling body. "As soon as he comes out of them, he falls into this sort of stasis like sleep, where his body temp lowers to the point of freezing. He'll stay this way for a while before regaining consciousness."

"Did he again?" Severus questioned.

""Briefly," Poppy replied. "Only enough to recognize where he was, and that he wasn't alone. Although, I'm not sure he was aware it was Mr. Malfoy here who was at his bedside. He wasn't coherent enough to talk more than a few sentences of gibberish."

"Then it appears that each fit is gaining length and intensity, while his lapses of consciousness are getting smaller," Severus surmised. Poppy simply nodded. It was clear they were quickly running out of time.

To Minerva, though, the curse and its side effects were beginning to tickle a part of her memory she had locked away years ago. She smoothed her fingers through Harry's damp hair. "I've heard of the curse.. or curses rather. Alone, they are horrible and effective. Together, it appears they are ten times more so. To combine them, however, would require the power of someone incredibly dark, someone who has given up their soul."

"Then the Dark Lord would more than qualified for such a thing, would he not?"

"If what you said about the Horcruxes is true, then yes. But to do so while still here as a student in Hogwarts..." She let the sentence drop. The implications were clear. Voldemort was just as powerful and black-hearted back then as he was now.

"And a cure?" Draco whispered, his fingers wrapped securely around Harry's and his head bowed. His eyes stayed on the closed ones of Harry for a moment before lifting, fire burning deep inside. "Is there a way to stop this?" he hissed.

Minerva silently shook her head. "Not that I am aware of." The answer seemed to suck out the last bit of hope Draco had held and his knees buckled. He collapsed onto the floor next to Harry's bed, his face a study of deep grief. It was shocking to see- and even harder to comprehend, that he could have developed such a bond with his once rival so quickly. The transfiguration Professor swiftly knelt next to the distraught blond, her shaking hand touching his shaking shoulders. He buried his head in the side of the coarse cloth covering Harry's body.

"Could we not separate the curses? Together they may unbreakable. However, if we were to deal with one at a time?" Severus asked quietly, still stunned by his charge's actions. Draco lifted his mussed head and looked imploringly at his Professors, his eyes wide and red.

The old cat pondered the idea for a few agonizing moments. "It is worth researching, which I think we should undertake quickly. I fear Potter hasn't much time, and neither do we." Her mouth was set in a firm line, her face showing her age. "Severus if you would?" she requested.

The dour man simply nodded. He brushed the hair back from Harry's frigid head and placed a strong hand on Draco's. Draco leaned his head against the bed again, closing his eyes tightly, drawing a bit of comfort from his mentor's touch, and the hope flickering in his heart.

"May I remain here?" he asked quietly. Severus glanced up at Poppy, then nodded.

"I will excuse you from classes again," he replied, and swept tiredly from the room, leaving two broken boys in the care of an equally exhausted matron.

A few hours passed without a movement from the dark haired boy on the bed. Draco had climbed from the floor and crawled into Harry's bed, holding the icy body next to his, trying to infused it with some warmth. Harry's breathing grew shallower as the minutes ticked by and Draco could almost feel his life force slipping away. His embrace tightened, his lips pressed to the soft neck of his bedmate. "Don't go, Harry. Not yet," he begged.

"_Terribilis Beatitudo,"_ hissed out from Harry's lips, and Draco hit the floor running.


End file.
